


In the Dead of a Hot Summer's Night

by Lenasaurous



Series: In the Dead [1]
Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M, No Spoilers, Phantom Theif AU, Slow Burn, Sort Of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-15
Updated: 2018-02-10
Packaged: 2019-03-05 09:44:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 21
Words: 38,450
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13385199
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lenasaurous/pseuds/Lenasaurous
Summary: It was when Shuichi was on his knees, hand stuck far down the tight crevice between his badly put together wardrobe and the damp paint peeling off of the wall, when he heard the thump.Confused and apprehensive, Shuichi looked over his shoulder to see a short man slip from underneath the curtain having hopped in through the open window.Of course, like any sane person, Shuichi did nothing but gently clear his throat.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This story is going under some sort of quasi editing process. I believe the fic is enjoyable in its current state, I just want to improve the grammar. I mean, statistically very few of you will pay this any mind and it's received the majority of the readers it's ever going to get, but whatever. I just don't want my most popular work to be my weakest.

Restless and nervous, Shuichi paced about his dark room. The early summer heat was near unbearable and the smell of sweat and dirty clothes permeated the air. Shuichi paused in front his window, to open it and let in a breeze, before resuming his pacing. He was clenching a piece of paper in his fist and muttering under his breath.

The bedroom itself was especially messy. Shuichi wasn't a particularly a disorganised person, let alone such a slob as the room suggested. In fact, he found it difficult to concentrate in messy environments. However, the source of the clutter was more a combination of piling stress and an impending job interview.

Stacks of paper sat on the small desk, work waiting to be done; unwashed clothes were draped over any and all furniture; old water bottles and dirty paper plates littered the floor around the nightstand and waste paper basket. Shuichi had been too preoccupied studying, fretting about his interview or being dragged out by his friends to find time to do something so superfluous as cleaning for at least two weeks.

He’d just passed the window for the umpteenth time when a strong gust of wind flew through the window, scattering a large, unweighted tower of paper all across the opposite end of the room. Paper fluttered up and across the walls and between the furniture.

Muttering under his breath, Shuichi rushed to pick up the paper, but not before pulling the thin curtains shut to stifle any more wind.

It was when Shuichi was on his knees, hand stuck far down the tight crevice between his badly put together wardrobe and the damp paint peeling off of the wall, when he heard the thump.

Confused and apprehensive, Shuichi looked over his shoulder to see a short figure slip from underneath the curtain having hopped in through the open window.

Of course, like any sane person, Shuichi did nothing but gently clear his throat.

The intruder’s head whipped around to look at him.

While he couldn’t see much in the darkness, Shuichi could tell that they were wearing a dark mask obscuring the top half of their face. He could just see the mask moving as the intruder’s eye’s widened before they planted their hands on their hips, arms akimbo.

 “Huh… must have got the wrong window.”  The screaming of sirens was growing louder through the still open window. “Ah well, guess I’m stuck here for a while.”

 With a shrug, they settled themselves on Shuichi’s bed, dropping a bulging sack onto the floor by their feet.

A suitable reaction now quite coming to him, Shuichi settled for retrieving the piece of paper in the meantime. He shook his arm of paint chips and placed the paper the stack, weighting it down, not wanting a repeat of earlier. He stared down at the unassuming glass and realised that he still hadn’t come up with a plan of action.

With little other option, he turned to face the intruder, who was kicking their legs back and forth, looking around the room with mild interest.

 “Um…” Shuichi began, the other’s attention being diverted from his possessions. “Could you perhaps… leave?” For a moment he stared at the intruder, who he vaguely registered as a young man, before tacking a ‘Please?’ on the end.

The other only laughed and didn’t move. “Not really.” And said nothing more on the subject. “It’s a bit dark; you should turn the lights on.”

“N-no. Get out of my apartment.”

“I don’t want to.” His short, messy ponytail bobbed as he grinned cheekily and bounced on the bed. “In fact, I think I like it here. I might just stay forever.”

Shuichi stared at him a second before blinking and shaking his head. “What?”

“That was a lie. This place is gross, I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t have to be.”

The sirens had already faded back into the distance, merging back into the general hubbub of the city. Shuichi continued to stare until the other spoke again.

“That was a lie too. I’d probably have left already if this place were empty.” He leant back on his hands, fingers scrunching into the dirty bedsheets.

At a loss for what to do, Shuichi did the only thing that had been suggested to him and took a few apprehensive steps to turn on his bedside lamp.

“That’s better! What did I say; all the better to see your stinky room with. I’ll help you clean up if you want, I have nothing better to do.”

Shuichi continued to stare.

The intruder giggled. “You catch on quick. I’m impressed.”

“You don’t look it.”

“Yeah… an impulsive liar like me isn’t too difficult to figure out.” Shuichi raised an eyebrow. “Guess I can’t fool you for long.”

Without warning, the young man swiped his bag up from the floor and stood.

“So, you’re leaving now?”

“Yes, I’m afraid this is where we part, my darling.” Shuichi spluttered at that but the intruder payed no attention. “But I pray our fates shall cross paths again. Until then,” He bowed very low, arm sweeping in front of him and hand brushing the carpet. “I bid you adieu.” Shooting Shuichi a bright grin, he leapt back out of the window into the night.

Shuichi woke up the following morning believing he had dreamt the whole thing in some kind of stress induced nightmare. He would have brushed it off as such too had he not stepped on something sharp in his socks upon getting out of bed. Lying on his bedroom floor he found a large, beautifully cut pale pink gemstone attached to a chain. It looked like it was worth an awful lot.

Torn between being scared that he was now harbouring stolen goods and letting the idea that none of that had been a dream sink in, Shuichi ignored both and stuffed it into his desk draw.

He didn’t need any more stress right then.

He hurried to get ready for his interview and had let it fly from his mind once he was out of the front door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a quick note, if you ever think I need to add any tags leave a comment or find me on tumblr at Blazewatching (although I doubt anyone will).


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quick note, this is where some of the original characters turn up. They're all primarily functional characters though, plot devices and shit, so I hope they're not too distracting. I like them well enough (and if you do too, I'll be thrilled!)

“I have to say, I’m very impressed. Not that I’d expect anything less from Saihara Isoshi’s nephew.”

Shuichi tried to grin warmly through his nerves as the Detective Chief Superintendent of the Kenkita Police department, Kaminara Jun, laughed heartily and slapped a small file on the desk Shuichi was sat in front of; which made him jump in his seat and tense.

“I’m glad you think so,” he replied simply, not quite trusting his voice to quit trembling. He had all but been handed this job on a silver platter, but he still wasn’t used to being interviewed. It put his teeth on edge and he was having to make a conscious effort towards stopping himself from stuttering. He wondered if this was how people felt when he interrogated them.

The Superintendent jovially laughed again and sat down opposite Shuichi. “There’s no need to be so polite my boy, we’re all friends here. I’ve known your uncle since we studied law together, you know. _Not_ that I’m giving you a place on that basis alone.”

“I’d certainly hope not,” Shuichi furrowed his brow in earnest concern.

“Of course not, no need to worry, lad. I’ll just need you to sign the contract and you can start as soon as possible.” Kaminara rummaged through a filing cabinet beneath the desk, pulling out an official looking piece of paper. “It’s a paid internship, terms regarding that are explained there,” he explained, pointing at a paragraph in the middle of the page. “Hours are flexible and negotiable for someone your age too, more detail here.” He pointed to a different paragraph. “But I’m sure you understand, we can’t officially hire you full time without having earned your degrees and completing police training. Though as for the two years of experience, I’d daresay you have enough already.”

Kaminara smiled broadly, inviting Shuichi to read through the contract himself before signing.

Fifteen minutes later the two were shaking hands as Shuichi was escorted through the door to the Police Department’s lobby. Exchanging friendly, if a little shaky, farewells, Shuichi walked through the entrance onto the busy city streets.

He let out a loud sigh and slumped his shoulders, smiling faintly. He reached for his phone and hit the number on his speed dial.

“Hey, it’s me. Guess what?”

 

“You know I never doubted for a _second_ that you’d get that job. There was never any question. I mean, my sidekick can do anything. Right Maki?”

Shuichi, slouching over a piping hot box of dirt-cheap takeaway ramen on an old park picnic table, was absorbing the praises of his friend, a grateful expression adorning his tired face.

“While I find it unsurprising that Shuichi would get such a job with ease, I think that is a bit of an exaggeration. No offense.”

“None taken,” Shuichi assured her. “‘Anything’ _may_  just be a bit of a stretch. Thanks anyway, Kaito.”

“Of course, bro!” Kaito exclaimed through a mouthful of noodles, the same as were sat in front of Shuichi. “Though really, it goes without saying.” He shovelled more food into his face and swallowed it hard before finishing his train of thought. “If anyone deserves a job like that, it’s you.”

The three friends fell into comfortable silence, busy eating their lunch. With Kaito around though, any silence was short lived.

“By the way…” he began, twirling the fork in between his fingers. “I texted you, like, _eight_ times last night. What was up?”

Shuichi raised his eyebrows quizzically. “You did? I didn’t get anything.”

“His phone’s been acting up. It’s not your fault, Shuichi,” Maki assured him. Kaito began to argue but was cut off by her glare. “I’m sure you were too busy to sleep, let alone listen to idiocy.”

He nodded, chuckling at the way Kaito was pouting. “Although…” he began, remembering the events of the previous night, not too sure if he should divulge said events. It was debatable as to whether they would believe him. “Something… _weird_ happened… I think.”

“You think?” Kaito repeated, cocking an eyebrow.

Shuichi hummed thoughtfully. “Well… I mean I was tired and it was dark. I can’t help but think that it was probably some stress induced dream or something but…”

Maki rolled her eyes. “Spit it out.”

“A cat burglar _may_ have broken into my apartment last night.”

The two didn’t respond immediately, but then Kaito burst out laughing.

“I’m being serious. It was… weird. He had a strange tool belt and a mask, and I found a very real looking gemstone buried in my carpet this morning. I don’t own anything like that. And I know neither of you put it there.”

Kaito still seemed to think he was joking but Maki took it a little more seriously, then again, she tended to take everything seriously. “This person just… entered your bedroom?”

“Well the window was open. It was hot last night. He climbed in and out through that.” Shuichi proceeded to explain what happened in its entirety.

“So, you just let this person go?” she asked, leaning her head forward. “You work for the _police department_.”

Shuichi shrugged. “What else was I supposed to do? They were… well, they were odd. He just… what was I meant to do in that situation?” Maki opened her mouth to retort but Shuichi quickly interrupted her. “No, I don’t think I could have immobilised him. The guy scaled to the fifth floor of my apartment building and I don’t start police training for another two years. Plus, it’s me.”

Kaito had calmed down by then and held his hand between the three of them. “Let me get this straight. You’re telling me…” he paused to wheeze. “A strange person in a mask breaks into your room, with you in it, and you politely ask them to leave and just _accept_ it when they say no?”

Shuichi stared at his friend for a moment before replying, “I guess so…”

Kaito burst out laughing again. “That’s… that’s my Shuichi... Fuck I think I’m going to die.” He hit his head to the table in front of them, making the takeaway boxes jump. “Maki help…” He started waving his hand at her, but she bluntly batted it away.

“You know, _I_ didn’t find it very funny when I had a criminal stood in my bedroom.”

“What are you planning to do with the gemstone?” Maki interrupted.

Shuichi had to admit she had a good point. He had wanted to ignore it, but he supposed that, if it was worth anything, it would be bad to leave it lying in his draw for eternity. “I can’t exactly return it to its original owner. I have no idea who that is.”

“You’d be better off making money off of it.” Shuichi stared at Maki, and she fearlessly met his disbelieving gaze as Kaito began calming down. “I’m being completely serious here.”

“I’m sure you are,” he replied, baffled. “But I can’t just pawn it off.”

Kaito interjected again. “Why not Bro? We’re all broke as it is.”

“At least get it checked out. It could be worthless anyway,” Maki suggested, collapsing her now empty food packaging and throwing it expertly so it landed in the recycling bin ten yards away.

Kaito attempted the same feat and failed miserably, but didn’t let it get to him. “Yeah, if it’s a fake you can just give it as a present or something. Get yourself a girlfriend, like yours truly.”

Shaking his head, Shuichi rose to his feet, picking up Kaito’s litter on the way to bin his own. “I don’t know, maybe…”

“Oh good, maybe you’ll be less of a downer then.”

“That is not what I was talking about!” he retorted, blushing. “I’ll get the stone appraised. And would you shut up about that.”

Kaito just flashed him a shit eating grin, slinging his arm over Maki’s shoulders, who then blushed slightly but made no move to shake him off.

“I’ve got a lecture in ten minutes. I need to go,” Shuichi said, picking up his belongings and walking away.

“I’ll call you tonight, okay?! We need to celebrate your job! With Netflix and ice cream!”

Shuichi chuckled and nodded, waving over his shoulder as he hurried off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is actually the only chapter in this thing which has a time break. I have just realised this while proof reading, funny. Anyway, I'm glad a bunch of you are enjoying this so far, and I really hope the rest of the fic continues to please!  
> (I looked at this for the first time since posting chapter one in the middle of a class and just started squeeing and my form was judging me so FML, I love you all though)  
> Don't forget to ask questions if you want!


	3. Chapter 3

“Saihara-san!” Kaminara greeted Shuichi heartily one evening as he was pouring over a small stack of paperwork. “Could we borrow you for a while, if you’re not busy?”

“Sir, I work for you,” Shuichi felt the need to remind his boss. “You don’t really need ask permission for consultation.” He stood up and pushed the chair in. “I assume that’s what you want from me?”

The internship had gone almost unnaturally well in the past two months. It had made Shuichi suspicious for a while, just how much success he received in it. He had even gone as far to interrogate his uncle, demanding to know if he had had any influence over it, and was still unsatisfied upon receiving an undeniably honest no. In any case, his superiors expressed an odd fondness of him and had taken to inviting him in on debates over the more complicated, far reaching and longer lasting cases; often once they had hit a dead end and were looking for fresh perspectives.

Kaminara chuckled. “Only if you’re busy. I’m not about to distract you, my boy. But if you’re raring to go, we’d welcome your two cents.”

Shuichi nodded and followed his boss through to an office where a middle-aged man and woman were quietly discussing something over a mass of papers and a map spread over one of the wooden desktops. The other detectives greeted him and soon he was being briefed on what was indeed a very intricate case.

“So, we here have been dragged into this thing with the lot of ‘em showing their faces round here. We’ve come to the conclusion so far that, somehow, without our knowledge until now, this criminal organisation, Dice, has been stationed in our city and acting outside of it. Guess they got bored and invaded their own territory.”

Shuichi nodded. “There certainly are a lot of wealthy people in Kenkita,” he agreed looking at a piece of paper he’d been handed a little earlier. “If they’re based here then… you think you might be able to target the heart of it.”

His boss nodded. “Pretty much,” then he beamed. “On the ball as always. I’m sure Isoshi’s proud.”

Blushing, Shuichi got back on topic. “So, do we even know what the leader or whoever you’re trying to track looks like?”

“We’ve deduced that the leader is a young woman who appears to work alone. She’s so talented at going undetected though, that we have no idea what she looks like, only what she’s taken,” the older woman explained, uncrossing her legs and standing to point at the map. “She infiltrated the Museum of Ancient Royal History last December; Judithe’s, the department store that is, in February and the jewellery store on Kirsche Avenue only two months ago.”

Something pulled at the back of Shuichi’s mind for some reason. He knew he’d forgotten something that may have been relevant but didn’t dwell on it long.

The other man passed Shuichi three pieces of paper. “These are lists of what she took.”

Shuichi accepted the paper and quickly scanned it as the other three continued to talk to each other. These were priceless items, including ancient treasures and artefacts from the museum, expensive technology from the department store and some ridiculously rare jewellery, with names so obscure and their worth so  _absurd_  the numbers made him dizzy. Whoever it was must have had to bypass bizarrely complex security systems. It at least deserved a begrudging respect.

“Wait…” Shuichi began, looking up and interrupting whatever his superiors were discussing. “If she can evade security cameras and you’ve never obtained a photo or evidence of who they are… how do we know it’s a she at all?”

Kaminara chuckled. “Trust you… It’s eyewitnesses. The few witnesses there were described a petite, short figure, so there’s a high probability that it’s a woman. That or a very effeminate young man.”

That made sense, Shuichi supposed. Though he knew it was a bad idea to assume the gender of such a shadowy figure; and he was sure that the other three senior officers knew that as well. It was for convenience, he understood that, but… he was still sure he was  _forgetting_  something.

“We can’t really do all that much without more evidence though, can we?” Shuichi said, looking around for confirmation.

The woman nodded. “That’s what’s so frustrating. We just have to wait for her to strike again and see what we can do. We conveyed this to the higher ups and they’re currently in the process of beefing up security city-wide, but that’s about it.”

“However,” Kaminara interjected, “We have ideas about other cases relating to Dice.”

After being shown other related incidents, the four of them discussed theories for near over an hour, before they decided it was late and dark and that heading home for the day would be a good course of action.

Shuichi bid the three a goodbye and thanked the Detective Chief Superintendent before taking his leave, out into the dark, cool summer night. The streetlights lit the busy streets and Shuichi navigated his way home, squinting against the glare of car headlights, turning into side streets and eventually entering much quieter areas of town.

Dark alleyways weren’t by any means his idea of a good time, but it beat the extra twenty minutes of walking. So far nothing especially dangerous had happened to Shuichi walking around late in the large city; he’d encountered drunks, prostitutes, and drug dealers, skirting around them as much as he could. Without a badge or anything Shuichi had no authority to act on behalf of the police station he worked in, and so just quietly avoided all of it.

Therefore, he was taken completely off guard when someone slammed into him from around a corner in an alley down the side of two tall apartment buildings. They both toppled to ground in a confused heap.

It was a little less confused and a bit more panicked, though, when Shuichi suddenly found himself restrained with a blade pressing into his jugular.

Wide eyed, he didn’t dare move, only waited for whatever was to come.

“If you make a sound, I’ll  _kill_  you.” The person, Shuichi presumed male, whispered venomously into his ear; Shuichi just nodded faintly. His heart was in his throat and his mouth felt uncomfortably dry. He needed a lot of effort to keep his breathing even.

Sirens blared from a distant street, getting louder, and the stranger began to urge Shuichi to stand. “Follow my lead and we won’t have any problems.”

The guy’s arm was no longer holding him down but then something that felt distinctly like the muzzle of a gun jabbed into Shuichi’s back. “Move.”

It was slow and terrifying, but Shuichi continued to follow the directions as the assumed criminal guided him through the streets until they reached a very secluded place where it was near silent. The sirens so far in the distance they were barely noticeable, there were exactly zero people around, and no lights on in the surrounding buildings.

Shuichi felt the absence of a gun at his back, but had barely untensed before the knife was under his chin again.

“You’re going to forget this ever happened.”

He nodded again and scrunched his eyes shut, just hoping whoever they were would just run off.

“Oh…” This sudden tone shift, from violent and threatening to innocent, dawning realisation made Shuichi open his eyes very suddenly to see what had happened. Turning around he came face to face with a familiar masked figure.

“ _You_...?” Shuichi whispered in disbelief. The guy had seemed so harmless.

“I jumped into your room that one time!” If everything that had happened right up to that moment had caused Shuichi distress, nothing had jarred him quite as much as the peppy, downright cheerful tone of voice that came from the person who had but twenty minutes ago threatened to kill him. “Sorry about all that, I’ve regretted it every day since.” His face split into a sly grin. “Not really, but sorry for scaring you there. Really.”

Shuichi nodded warily.

“Someone looks traumatised,” he punctuated the statement with an insincere giggle. “I guess I’ll just leave you here. Though, it was an absolute  _pleasure_  to see you again.” He turned on his heel and took a few paces, leaving Shuichi completely dumbstruck and shaken, before stopping and turning back around. “You found the apology present I left you last time, right? Wouldn’t want it to go to waste.”

Shuichi blinked a couple of times. “The… the pink… thing…”

“That’s the one! Great. Parting is always such sweet sorrow, although, now I really must take my leave. Your apartment’s in that direction by the way.” He pointed off to the right before agilely leaping up onto a fire escape and up over the roof.

After stumbling back home and collapsing on his bed, Shuichi only then realised that that was probably the Dice mastermind; but fell asleep so abruptly after hitting his head to the pillow that the thought quickly drifted from his mind.


	4. Chapter 4

Shuichi didn’t sleep well that night.

After a near death experience like that he figured that no one could blame him, and as he told Kaito about it the following morning he seemed to agree.

“Shit dude, that’s rough,” Kaito admitted, running his hand through his hair as the two walked through a park in the middle of the university. “You don’t have any marks or anything, right?”

Shuichi rubbed his neck, fingers ghosting over where the knife had been, and shook his head. “I don’t think so.”

Kaito bent over slightly to look for himself. “Hmm, I guess that’s something to be thankful for.”

The park was busy, young adults were laying in the grass, absorbing what was left of the summer heat or crammed together under the shade of the trees, studying and talking and finding it hard to concentrate in general.

“Maki’s gonna be mad you for not doing anything though,” Kaito pointed out, nudging Shuichi gently.

Shuichi pulled a face and cocked his head in thought. “I doubt it, she’s not a monster. I had a gun to my back, what could I do?”

Kaito shrugged and readjusted his bag on his shoulder. “She would if it was me,” he chuckled fondly.

A couple of short giggling girls sprinted across their path then, followed by an angry looking taller woman, forcing the two to pause for a second. Shuichi looked up into the bright sky, squinting his eyes against the blazing sun.

“Why does it have to be so hot?” he complained, crestfallen. “The office is going to be _unbearable_ this afternoon.”

“You gonna tell your boss about last night?” Kaito asked, pulling Shuichi further along, resuming their stroll in the direction of the law building. “I mean... you said this guy’s a thief.”

He nodded. “Yeah, probably. I just hope my uncle doesn’t find out, he’d go crazy and drag me home.”

Kaito groaned. “No!” he whined, slumping his shoulders. “Don’t tell him, we just got you back.”

“I can’t help it if Kaminara tells him. They’re old friends.”

“Yeah, but still.”

Having reached the law building, Shuichi pushed against the door and held it open for Kaito to pass through.

“It took you two long enough.”

Maki, who was sat on a bench in the lobby, was looking at them unimpressed.

Kaito grabbed Shuichi’s arm and dragged him over to sit down, excitedly rambling about what he’d just been told.

“…like I know this is Kenkita we live in, but still. I never thought anything like that would happen to anyone I know.” Kaito gesticulated enthusiastically as he loudly voiced his own opinions on Shuichi’s encounter.

Shuichi, meanwhile, pulled out the pastries he and Kaito had stopped to pick up before meeting Maki, and distributed them. Kaito was so excited about telling the story that he almost batted his away on accident before realising what Shuichi was doing and taking it, cringing sheepishly.

Maki accepted hers before turning to Shuichi, mouth open, then seeming to decide better of it.

“What?” he prompted.

She furrowed her brow. “Are you _sure_ there was nothing you could do to protect yourself?”

“I told you!” Kaito exclaimed, pointing at Maki with a little too much gusto and accidentally jabbing her face. He withdrew his hand slowly.

Shuichi sighed. “No, Maki. He had a gun to my back.”

“Yes, I know,” she said. “But what if you had been taken hostage, or killed because you had seen too much.” She looked seriously concerned. Shuichi would be lying if he said he wasn’t touched. “You need to watch out for yourself. You’re technically on the police force now, can’t they permit you some kind of self-defence?”

Shuichi shook his head. “Not until I’ve passed the exam and got a licence.” He unwrapped his lunch and folded the paper up before setting it on the bench next to him. “I appreciate your concern, but I don’t think I could have done anything.”

“You’re a detective Shuichi. You’re going to get into more danger than just that.” Maki frowned and poked at her sausage roll. “You either need to be more careful where you stick your nose or learn to defend yourself.”

“It’s not like he was doing anything to provoke the guy,” Kaito said, defending Shuichi. “He wasn’t exactly wearing a neon sign screaming ‘I’m a detective that hates criminals, put a bullet in my brain.”

Shuichi snorted, Maki on the other hand didn’t look especially amused. “Even so.” She bit at her thumbnail for a second before shaking her head and turning to her food. “It doesn’t matter, just be careful.”

Kaito slung his arm over her shoulders and shook her gently. “Don’t fret so much, Shuichi’s my sidekick, he can handle himself.”

She just rolled her eyes and shrugged him off.

Shuichi turned to his own lunch, following Kaito’s lead as the hyperactive man-child had begun stuffing his face. But he started to feel the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end, sensing someone staring at him. Lifting his head, Shuichi turned this way and that, searching for whoever he thought was looking at him.

There were a few other people milling about in the busy law building, eating lunch, talking to each other, fretting about overdue work; but no one was looking in their direction. Shuichi brushed it off and returned to his lunch.

“Something up, bro?” Kaito asked, nudging Shuichi with his elbow.

Shuichi just shook his head. “It’s nothing, I just thought… but I was wrong. What were you saying?”

Kaito continued his excited babbling, something about this freaky guy in his classics lecture, who was ‘totally into the occult’ and most certainly ‘sacrificed baby animals to Satan or something in his free time’.

The feeling Shuichi had that someone was watching him didn’t go away though. Yet every time he looked up, it disappeared. He figured whoever it was just averted their gaze whenever he looked, but it was really starting to irritate him.

He offered to take the rubbish to the bin and scrunched it all up together before getting to his feet. It was while at the bin that he finally saw who was staring at him the whole time. In the window’s reflection he could see a someone staring at his back.

He jerked his head around and he finally met a dark pair of eyes.

A very short young man with feathery, purple dyed hair was looking at him from the other end of the room. He just grinned brightly before turning back to the people he was talking to.

Shuichi didn’t really know what to think, so he just went and sat back down, a little bit confused. He looked back over to the guy, and he was looking back at him as well. Shuichi gave a small half-wave and the other beamed, waving back at him more enthusiastically.

“Dude what are you doing?”

Kaito dragged Shuichi’s attention away from the strange boy. He was giving him a quizzical look. At some point his bag had found its way onto his lap, his arm inside of it.

“I… err…” he looked between his friends and then back up at the stranger. “Nothing… some guy was just… looking at me.”

They both followed his gaze and their faces instantly contorted into grimaces of pity.

“Yeah, just ignore him.”

Maki hummed in agreement. “Ask anyone. It’s always wise to avoid that guy.”

Shuichi was still confused. “You know him?”

“Not any more, thank _god_ ,” Kaito almost gagged at the thought. “I pity the person who finds themselves a friend of Ouma Kokichi.”

Shuichi looked back up at the guy, Ouma he supposed, but he was gone. Looking around he saw him exiting the building. Just before leaving though, he waggled his fingers and smiled impishly. Shuichi sort of waved back again and the other turned away with a snicker.

Kaito seemed incredibly startled at that and hastily objected. “God, dude, don’t _interact_ with him!”

“Why?”

“You just _don’t_ interact with Ouma Kokichi,” Maki explained. “It’s just something that you don’t do. He’s crazy. It’s likely to be dangerous for you.” She fiddled with the zip on her bag while Shuichi stared at her incredulously.

Maki sighed and continued. “Stuff like ‘who to avoid’ is something we left back in high school, but this is the exception. It’s obvious to any sane person who’s spent more than five minutes in the same room as him. You just stay away. For your own safety.”

Shuichi just looked back and forth between his friends. “Alright… well, I have to get to a criminal justice lecture so…” he got to his feet.

“Dude,” Kaito said, catching Shuichi’s sleeve before he left. “Don’t. Seriously.” Shuichi just laughed it off and walked away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is rather short and uneventful so I'll be uploading chapter 5 later today. I am literally uploading this in the middle of a lesson.  
> By the way, proof reading this I realised I can sound harsh on Kaito at times, (see hyperactive man-child). I'm not trying to be, it's for comedy and hyperbole, Kaito is genuinely one of my favourite DR characters period, so take it with a pinch of salt.   
> Thanks for reading though!


	5. Chapter 5

It was long past midnight. The world outside the grand windows was dark and the faint old lamp by which Shuichi had been reading was starting to flicker and dim, the batteries running out of juice. The heavy curtains hadn’t been pulled shut yet and the old window frame rattled as the cool, mid-September night breeze entered through the draughty lead grilles which needed replacing. An old, chunky laptop sat sleeping, long gone unused, to Shuichi’s right and the file of some young woman he was supposed to be researching squished between the table and Shuichi’s drool covered cheek.

He hadn’t _meant_ to fall asleep. He had planned to pull an all-nighter and do the work he needed to then, before checking public records in the library and the office come morning. His body, however, seemed to have other ideas as not an hour in he had nodded off and was still happily snoring away hours later.

At least he _was_. Shuichi, being a freakishly light sleeper, woke up, panicked, shot to his feet and spun around, meeting a familiar face lit by the moonlight and a distinct sense of déjà vu.

“I swear you must be stalking me at this point.”

That was the first thing out of Shuichi’s mouth and it caused the masked intruder to burst out laughing. Shuichi just frowned and stared at the other.

“I guess I just couldn’t stay away.” He grinned cheekily and sat back on sill of the now open window. “Your face is one that just demands to be admired time after time, I was just helpless to your beguiling ways.”

Unsurprisingly, this caused Shuichi to go red in the face and if it weren’t for the darkness of the room, he was sure the other would have teased him about it.

Realising that he still had saliva stuck to his cheek, he began to rub it clean with his sleeve, deciding against responding to the unprovoked compliments.

“Why _are_ you here though?” the other asked, pushing off away from the window and taking a slow stroll around the room. “I’ve been scouting this manor for weeks now and this room is always abandoned to collect dust.”

Shuichi sighed and looked away. “It is pretty dusty in here,” he agreed, leaning against the desk. “It goes unused because I don’t live here anymore. The room’s still mine though.”

The young man nodded, pulling a gloved finger across a chest of drawers the other side of the room, leaving a distinct trail behind. He tutted before rubbing the dust off on his clothes. “This place is somehow _worse_ than your other room, though I suppose that’s not quite your fault.”

Nodding, Shuichi began to wake up a bit more and it very suddenly hit him that there was a criminal mastermind in his childhood bedroom and that this was the sort of situation that was supposed to alarm a person. Despite this, though, he was also too drowsy to really do anything about it aside from continuing to talk. “What are _you_ doing here, anyway?”

“Oh, the owners asked me to do the housework, I’m just unconventional. It’s a pleasant surprise y’know, waking up to find your house _cleaner_ than when you went to sleep.” He smirked at Shuichi’s unamused expression and giggled quietly. “What do you _think_ I’m doing sneaking in through the window of one of the least used rooms of a huge ass manor belonging to one of the wealthiest couples in the city; in the middle of the night, no less?”

“Yeah, yeah, I get it.”

The intruder had made a round of the room already and was getting a little too close for Shuichi’s liking; this was the guy who had held him at gunpoint just a few weeks prior. “How do you know the owners?”

“They’re my parents,” Shuichi stated, shrugging non-committedly.

“Huh…” was all the response he was going to get.

Shuichi then yawned involuntarily, remembering that he was still very tired. He shut the laptop, gathered the scattered papers into a small pile and edged over to his bedside where he then flipped the switch on a lamp and turned back to look at his visitor, only to find him halfway back out of the window.

“I thought you were going to rob us?” he asked, not quite sure why he was acting as if opposed to the idea that the criminal was going to leave his family’s possessions alone.

The other laughed and pulled his leg back into the room. “Do you want me to?”

“Not especially,” Shuichi gulped, instantly regretting not just letting him go. “You can leave. Yeah, actually, that would be great.”

“Would it? I would have thought your _parents_ would jump at the chance to make headlines.” The thief had taken a few paces forward, so he was just a foot away from Shuichi, which made him very uncomfortable. “‘Ishikawa manor house robbed clean by most notorious cat burglar in the nation’, I can see it now.” He giggled and rolled back on his heels childishly. “Though I wouldn’t want to cause my dearly beloved grief now, would I?”

Stunned, confused and without any suitable response, Shuichi just stood and stared at the masked young man, stuck in place.

“No… I don’t want to. I think it would have been too easy anyway, even without you so surprisingly compliant.” Making up his mind, the intruder wandered back to the window and swung his legs over the window sill, dangling them out into the night air. “Again, I must unfortunately say ‘adieu’. Although the way things have gone, I doubt this will be the last time we meet.” He then blew Shuichi a kiss and slipped away into the night.

Still shaken, Shuichi just stared at the window for a minute. When he finally found his legs again, he moved over to look out after the thief, knowing he was probably already long gone. He dressed himself for bed and turned the lamps off, leaving the window open.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so chapter 5, a little early. I also realise that throughout this whole thing, in this chapter and the first especially, Shuichi is a bit... odd in how he behaves when someone breaks into his home. It's a plot device, but I also thought it was rather funny how awkward he is. IDK, tell me how stupid you think it is if you want, I'll probably agree.  
> Quick note on the Ishikawa thing: in this Shuichi lived with his uncle who is his mother's brother so he takes her maiden name, hence 'Saihara' and his actual parents having a different surname. Sorry if that confuses anyone.


	6. Chapter 6

Shuichi didn’t take Law at his university. People often asked him why he didn’t, if he wanted to be a detective; but he took criminal justice and law enforcement courses with experience instead. When he’d reply, ‘well I don’t want to be a lawyer’ it seemed to shut people up well enough.

So, when his boss, who _had_ studied law at said university and was an honorary professor there, had asked Shuichi to help him run a few seminars, he was slightly confused. His boss had explained it as ‘I just need an extra pair of hands’ and ‘you won’t need expert knowledge’ and then ‘I’ll pay you extra’; so, Shuichi had immediately agreed. As a broke student he couldn’t be picky, the internship salary didn’t exactly put him in the one percent.

That was what landed him sat behind a laptop, controlling the slideshow as Kaminara lectured a hall full of young adults varying from hyper-alert and interested to almost asleep. It only lasted an hour, but Shuichi was also being paid to help in the workshop his boss was leading that same afternoon.

The redeeming factor was that Maki took a law minor.

Shuichi couldn’t really do much, as he didn’t know a lot about law in that sense, but since starting work at the station he’d quickly learnt that, for however professional or knowledgeable Kaminara came across, he couldn’t organise anything to save his life. So, Shuichi’s main help was to actually know where everything was and when exactly Kaminara would need it. Shuichi thought he did his job rather well.

Most of the time though, he just sat and watched Maki work, trying not to distract her.

“Your boss is cool,” she had said, after reaching the bottom of her second sheet of lined paper and reaching for another. “Although is he always so… cheerful?”

Shuichi smiled and chuckled under his breath. “Pretty much. Surprising as used to work in the homicide department.”

“Good teacher. He knows your uncle, right?”

“Yeah. Isoshi pretty much got me the job,” he explained doodling on a spare piece of paper. “Though I can’t imagine them ever being friends. I can only imagine Isoshi getting very frustrated with Boss’ work conduct and promptly throwing a hissy fit.”

Maki hummed in what Shuichi assumed was an amused tone, he often couldn’t tell what she was thinking, and returned her focus to the work she was doing.

Shuichi then got called away by Kaminara briefly, and when he sat back down Maki looked rather uncomfortable.

“Is something wrong?” He frowned in concern, leaning down to look her in the eye over her papers.

She looked up at him warily before shaking her head. “It’s nothing. I’m just being paranoid.”

It unsettled him, but Shuichi shrugged and pulled out his phone. A few minutes later his boss shot him a dirty look, so he put his phone back in his pocket and slumped against the desk.

He watched Maki for a while, but she was still on edge for apparently no reason. “Seriously, Maki, what’s wrong?”

She stared at him for a moment, and then conspicuously peeked over her shoulder. Turning back to face him, Maki grimaced. “He keeps staring at you.”

Shuichi blinked, confused. “Who?”

“Ouma.”

He laughed at first, but quickly stopped knowing that Maki joking about was an alien concept. “What?”

She sighed and grit her teeth, looking back over her shoulder again. “It’s not obvious but… he keeps looking over here. It’s unsettling.”

Sceptically, he looked over and past Maki’s shoulder to where he found said boy sat with two other people at a table across the room. He seemed to be keeping to himself though.

“Well he isn’t looking _now_ ,” Maki stressed, rolling her eyes and writing something down. “Don’t look. You look when I tell you. And don’t you _dare_ make it obvious.”

Shuichi nodded and returned to doodling on the piece of paper in front of him. Five minutes later Maki whispered, “Look now.”

Obeying, he leant his cheek into his palm and looked over without moving his head. Sure enough, he was looking over their way. Not quite expecting it Shuichi just stared back and unsurprisingly the other boy realised he’d been caught.

Ouma grinned brightly at him and waved before turning back to his own work.

“Well… you weren’t wrong.”

Maki groaned. “I pray for you. Though let’s not tell Kaito. He’ll freak.”

Shuichi furrowed his brow. “Why do you two hate him so much? What did he ever do to you guys.”

He received an incredulous look in return and felt his cheeks warm with embarrassment. “Kaito and I were at high school with him.”

“Oh,” Shuichi said. “Was it _that_ bad?”

Maki rolled her eyes. “He and Kaito didn’t get on at all. He’s an annoying little shit who takes pleasure in the misfortune of others. He single-handedly got multiple teachers dismissed and students expelled, everyone knew he caused the theatre seats to collapse that one time and I’m pretty sure it was him who set the gym on fire.” She looked to Shuichi before shaking her head. “And Kaito could definitely tell you more.”

Shuichi looked back over to the young man across the room, still focusing on his own work.

“But why you’ve gained so much unwarranted attention from him… I have no idea.” Maki leant back in her seat and tapped her pen on the desk.

“What do you mean.”

“This isn’t the first time, Shuichi.” She glanced sideways at him. “He looks at you a lot. And I mean an _awful_ lot. I don’t see how you can be so unobservant, he hangs around this building all the time for some reason. He’s… creepy, for lack of a better word.”

That was when Kaminara popped up out of nowhere. “Saihara-san, you’re distracting my student.”

“S-sorry, sir.”

He laughed boisterously and took a seat across from them, picking up conversation and asking Maki about how her work was going on, answering any questions.

Unfortunately, since Maki had pointed it out, Shuichi couldn’t shake the feeling that he was being watched, which he now knew he was. It didn’t really let him relax, and he was on edge the rest of the day until he left the police department in the late afternoon. At that point Kaito had called, demanding that they go to see some new movie together because Maki said no. Thankfully, this had proved to be sufficiently distracting from the slightly disconcerting feeling that ran shivers down his spine whenever he thought about it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Btw I did like a bunch of research about university life and stuff before and while writing this but my knowledge regarding it (especially the elements I lifted from American college for convenience's sake, like taking minors) is sketchy. But ah well, as long as you follow the story I don't think it matters all that much.  
> Thanks for all the positivity btw! This whole thing has really made my week!


	7. Chapter 7

Shuichi’s morning routine changed just about every day. When he’d been living with his uncle, routine was law. However, having moved out, Shuichi, being a generally capricious person, happy to move whichever way the wind may blow, had devolved into a constantly shifting, though somehow never changing, way of life. He gave a lot of that credit to Kaito though.

But Shuichi was adamant about the fact that he was more productive at night, and therefore never got to sleep until late. This meant that mornings could start pretty much whenever. If he wasn’t careful he could be lying in bed, all but dead, until ten o’ clock when he’d leap from the wrinkled covers and rush to be out the door in the half an hour he had spare. Others he might be up at the crack of dawn, drowsy and not quite sure why he couldn’t go back to sleep, eventually resorting to sitting around his apartment like a zombie until he was needed somewhere.

Today, however, was one of those mystical days, only ever heard about in fairy tales, where Shuichi rightly saw an early rising as a means to getting a bright start to his day, with enough time to get a coffee before his lectures or work began. So, Shuichi was rather chirpy as he strolled into the nearest Starbucks and sat down with the most potently black coffee the place offered. He even had enough time to pull out his computer and look over his most recent paper on law enforcement.

Shuichi had rarely felt better.

And that’s why the universe felt the need to ruin everything.

The coffee was only half gone when someone else decided to sit across from Shuichi. He looked up from the computer screen and stared, bewildered, at the face of Ouma Kokichi.

“Hello there, Saihara-chan!”

The small young man looked perfectly cheerful and like nothing was really out of the ordinary. Except for that he was at Shuichi’s table without explanation and somehow knew his name. That was what unsettled Shuichi the most.

“Hello…” he cautiously replied back, pulling the lid of his laptop a little further down. “What are you doing?”

Ouma looked at him as if he was an idiot. “Mowing the lawn,” his tone was heavily sarcastic. “I saw you at the seminar yesterday. I thought you didn’t take law though?”

Shuichi was getting more and more confused and scared. This guy knew too much about him for his own liking.

“I don’t, the lecturer was my boss.”

“Oh, that makes sense.” He smiled and pulled a drink out of nowhere. “How’s your morning been?”

He was acting as if they had known each other for years. Like this was a perfectly normal interaction, one they had often. Except that it wasn’t, and they didn’t.

Unfortunately, as Shuichi had demonstrated with the run ins with the cat burglar, he wasn’t the sort of person to make a big deal out of this sort of situation. He just coped by pretending it was normal. Moving the way in which the wind was blowing.

“Pretty good… I guess,” he replied, taking a wary sip of his coffee. “Why?”

The other giggled, pouring about five packs of sugar into his cup. “Just curious. There’s no need to be so apprehensive. I’m not going to _hurt_ you.”

Shuichi looked at him unamused. “I have literally never spoken to you before in my life.”

They stared at each other blankly. “And?” Ouma asked innocently.

“And?” Shuichi repeated, incredulously.

“Yeah, how else are you supposed to make friends?”

Again, in disbelief, Shuichi continued. “Yeah but… most times strangers don’t know your name and what university courses you take.”

A melodramatic look of realisation washed over Ouma’s face and he smiled again. “Oh, I know that stuff from Momota.”

“Okay…” Shuichi responded, curious as to why Kaito would speak about him to people he didn’t even like. “But…err… but it’s rather creepy,” he admitted sitting back in his seat. “And from you…”

“I thought we’d never spoken before,” he retorted, smirking as he balled up the little papers that had held the mountain of sugar now surely sitting in a mound at the bottom of the sweet cup of horror.

“Y-yeah, but…” Shuichi didn’t think it would be the best idea to mention what his friends had told him and decided to drop it.

At this point, Shuichi figured he had two options: abruptly leave and avoid the situation, or sit and endure it. And if Shuichi was completely honest with himself, he knew he was far too awkward to do the former.

He watched as Ouma picked up his cup and began to drink. It made Shuichi want to be sick thinking about it and returned to looking over his report. With any luck, the other would get bored or maybe even take the hint.

But no, ten minutes later he was still there. Shuichi had finished his coffee and his first lecture was nearing so he decided that it would be a good time to finally evacuate without making things any more uncomfortable.

However, after having packed away and made his way out the door he found Ouma nonchalantly walking out beside him.

“Um… are you just going to follow me?”

“Silly Saihara-chan,” Ouma mocked, resting his hands behind his head. “We go to the same university. Of course we’d be going the same way.”

“Oh… yeah I guess so…” Shuichi faltered and continued on in silence.

Ouma kept making small comments and Shuichi would non-committedly hum in response when he felt the need to and pretty soon the gates onto the campus passed over them. With a small sigh of relief, Shuichi was able to turn off to the psychology department. Ouma looked a little… disappointed Shuichi would say but from what Kaito had told him the other was probably just putting on some sort of act.

“Oh well, I’ll see you later, Saihara-chan.” And with that Ouma walked off in the opposite direction.

It would turn out though, that Ouma had meant that whole heartedly. That afternoon, as Shuichi left Kaito and Maki’s company to make his way to the station, Ouma decided to join him on the journey. Shuichi, naturally, was caught a little off guard but figured that as long as he wasn’t doing any harm he could tolerate his presence.

In the following days Shuichi came to the conclusion that, after the coffee shop incident, Ouma no longer had a problem with approaching him as opposed to watching from a distance. He seemed to turn up whenever Shuichi was alone and not doing anything especially pressing, although his presence wasn’t always the most welcome. He could be very irritating and distracting if Shuichi was trying to do anything, however menial it may be.

However, the more the other was around him, the less inclined he was to believe all the stories Kaito had told him after gaining the attention.  He was pretty sure that Ouma would be capable of doing those things, but he just had some doubts. Not that he’d ever let Kaito know though.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I absolutely love the absurdity of this chapter. Especially since this is where the plot really picks up in my opinion. Dear god, that takes a while doesn't it? Regardless, I hope you guys enjoy reading this chapter as much as i enjoyed writing it (ages go, like back in November or something)  
> BTW, thought I'd mention it here as this is the first mention of it, but it's a thing in this that Shuichi and Kaito are so ridiculously close and are such good friends that they are practically symbiotic. It's more evident later, but for now I'm playing it up for comedic effect. That's what the whole 'He gave a lot of that credit to Kaito though' thing was, he pretty much keeps Shuichi functioning properly. (It's not explored in this, because Kaito's more of a supporting character and doesn't get his own arc, but I like to think that's a two way street thing)  
> Anyway, I hope you liked this chapter!


	8. Chapter 8

Sat at an isolated picnic table, Shuichi stared off into space, absently stirring a plastic spoon through a full paper bowl of cold soup. His fingers tapped aggressively on the wood and, legs crossed, he let his foot bounce up and down rapidly.

The area behind the chemistry building was cold and shaded, a few dying trees stood in the corner by a probably radioactive, rusty dumpster and this lone picnic table was a bit of a mystery to everyone. Right then, though, Shuichi was glad for it.

He wasn’t really in the mood for dealing with Kaito over that lunch, the almost whiney response he had received just made him a in less of mood. He still felt a little guilty, but he just knew he needed to be alone. And this damp, cold table in the small gap between building and perimeter provided a perfect space to just ruminate and be generally stressed.

Shuichi had gone to work that morning to be greeted by a grimly excited atmosphere in the detectives’ office and had promptly been brought into confidence by Kaminara. Apparently, the previous evening, after Shuichi had left for home, they had received a tip off from someone that the next Tuesday the largest bank on the Main street, Green Valley Holdings, was to be targeted by Dice.

His morning had been spent talking about precautions to take and defence measures to protect the important building, but it had left him jumpy and anxious.

He hadn’t been _this_ jittery since his entrance exams. He couldn’t concentrate: his mind kept buzzing with questions and anticipation and impatience. He was so distracted he couldn’t even focus on eating, let alone his afternoon lectures, though he supposed that he’d have to deal with that as it came.

He was broken out of this daze though by something slamming on the table across from him.

“It’s unusual to find Saihara-chan all on his lonesome.”

Shuichi looked up, startled, to see that Ouma had just dropped his massive textbooks on the table along with a paper bag.

“Oh… hi…” he greeted weakly, uncrossing his legs and sitting up.

After a few weeks of it Shuichi had become rather desensitised to Ouma’s very sudden appearances. He just sort of went with it at this point.

“I thought you usually eat with your friends.” Ouma shunted his books to one side to sit down facing Shuichi. “Or did you finally realise how aggravating Momota is and ditch him?” he asked innocently.

Shuichi shook his head, too tired to call the other out on his rude behaviour. “No, I just wanted some time alone.” He looked down at his soup and ate some. He frowned as the stone-cold liquid slithered down his throat and put the spoon back in the pot, pushing it tiredly away from himself.

“Well if that’s the case I suppose I have to leave,” Ouma pouted and began to collect his things. “I’ll just let you be emo on your own; wouldn’t want to get infected. My frail body can’t cope with a cold, let alone so incurable a disease as _that_.”

Shuichi chuckled and placed his hand on top of the other’s now stacked belongings. “It’s fine. You can stay.”

Ouma suddenly looked very offended and crossed his arms over his chest indignantly. “Well I’m certainly not staying if I’m not wanted.”

The first thing that came to Shuichi’s mind was that it had never stopped him before, but he withheld that remark in favour of making the other young man feel a bit more welcome. “No, really, I think I’d like your company today.”

The two looked at each other in silence for a moment, and Shuichi started to get a little worried that he’d said something to genuinely upset the other; he’d never seen his face go so blank of emotion like that. It seemed sort of unnatural.

Ouma’s face broke back into a grin, though, and he sat back down. “Well if you’re so desperate to be with me how could I deny that of my beloved Saihara-chan?” The embarrassing words passed over Shuichi’s head, as he was still busy with his concern, but he let it slide once the other begun speaking again.

As usual, Ouma did most of the speaking, nattering on and on about anything and everything of very little importance. Shuichi tried to focus on what the other was saying, he really did, but his mind was still buzzing and impatient and he found himself chewing on his lip and tapping his fingers on the table out of unnecessary anticipation.

It took a moment, but Shuichi realised that at some point Ouma had gone quiet. He looked up to find his face centimetres away from the other’s and jumped back in surprise. “Wh-what are you doing?”

“Just staring into your beautiful eyes.”

Shuichi sputtered in disbelief before Ouma giggled and said, “but that was a lie,” and sat back down. “You were staring off. Do I really bore you that much? Honestly Saihara-chan, can you be any more horrible?” Tears started to well up in the corners of Ouma’s eyes. “You’re the one that said you wanted me here.” He then proceeded to wail loudly; a spectacle that Shuichi was sure _someone_ was going to hear.

“What? No, no, stop, don’t cry! Really, it’s nothing to do with you, please…” he stopped midsentence as Ouma smirked at him through his fingers. “That wasn’t funny.”

“Oh, but I think you’ll find it was,” he snickered and leant forward on his elbows, wiping the crocodile tears from his eyes. “You were being very rude though, Saihara-chan. I’m surprised at you. And to think I had you down as _courteous_."

Unamused, Shuichi rolled his eyes. “Well I’m sorry,” he said sarcastically. Shuichi kicked at a clump of dirt under the table and scowled. After a moment more of silence he sighed and relaxed his expression. “No, really. I’m sorry,” he ran his hands through his hair and rested his forehead on the table.

“Saihara-chan seems upset,” Ouma stated as if he’d said something that wasn’t completely obvious. “I suppose I can forgive you…” he paused, and Shuichi knew what was coming next. “ _If_ you tell me why.”

Shuichi looked up into smug violet eyes and took a deep breath. “Just work…” he sat up and twiddled his thumbs before continuing. “There’s just… a thing. You know what I do, right?”

“Window cleaning,” was the deadpan reply, and as Shuichi stared at the small young man, his face broke into an impish grin and he giggled shamelessly. “You’re a gumshoe or something.”

“A detective, yeah,” Shuichi looked down at the bowl of soup again. “Anyway, there was this tip off last night and I was told this morning and it just sort of got me jumpy and mindless. You wouldn’t really understand without context but… it’s really important. And I haven’t been able to concentrate all morning…” he trailed off, not really knowing how to continue.

Despite the unfinished explanation and awkward ensuing silence though, Shuichi felt a lot better having explained it to someone. He smiled peacefully and looked back up at Ouma. “Thanks, I think I needed that.”

Ouma didn’t look particularly interested, he shrugged. “ _Man_ , your problems are so _lame_. God, Saihara-chan, get a grip.” He rolled his eyes exaggeratedly before reaching back into the paper bag he’d brought his lunch in.

“Well I’m sorry if my problems aren’t as exciting as yours. Although in my opinion notorious cat burglars who plan to rob one of the largest banks in the county are at least _intriguing_ ,” Shuichi rebuked, re-crossing his legs and resting his cheek on his hand. “What?”

Ouma had paused mid action, eyes slightly wide. “Hey, are you okay?” Shuichi leaned over the table to intercept the other’s gaze.

It seemed to do the trick, as the other jolted out of whatever was going on. His eyes locked on to Shuichi’s momentarily before his act started up again. “And you call _me_ a lair. Attention seeking much,” he said, pointing a bar of chocolate in Shuichi’s face. “That would be a bit of a stretch, even for me.”

“I’m being serious,” Shuichi replied, furrowing his brow in annoyance. “These people, they call themselves Dice, it’s their leader, apparently. We don’t know much about them, everyone thinks it’s a girl, but I _swear_ it’s not.”

It was a mystery to Shuichi where all of this was coming from. He couldn’t explain why he thought it remotely appropriate to be telling someone he’d known all of three weeks anything so in depth about his job. He’d known Maki three years and Kaito since he was five, it made sense to confide so much in them, but Ouma Kokichi was almost a stranger. And yet Shuichi somehow found it so easy to vent at him.

“See they think that because the only description is small and petite, but I swear to god that I’ve met the guy.”

Ouma nodded sceptically. “Sure.”

“No, really!” he exclaimed, frustrated. “I’ve only told Kaito and Maki about this, but he broke into my house. I don’t think it was intentional, but it happened. Night before my interview at the police station. Then about two months later he held me at gunpoint while running from the portrait gallery. And _then_ he broke into my parents’ place and probably would have robbed them clean if I wasn’t there.” He paused for a second, watching as Ouma stared at him blankly. “I’m not lying, I swear.”

“No, no I believe you,” Ouma assured him, holding his hands out in a placating manner. “If I’ve learnt anything about you Saihara-chan, it’s that you couldn’t lie to save your life.” He smirked and prodded Shuichi with his foot from under the table. “Although are you really allowed to tell me any of this?”

He shrugged. “Probably not the Dice stuff, but it’s my business how many run in’s I’ve had with cat burglars.” Shuichi averted his eyes, knowing he’d most certainly said too much. It was too late now though so he didn’t really dwell on it. “Though I still feel better after telling someone.”

Ouma looked at him incredulously and laughed. “You mean that you _haven’t_ told your boss you ran into the person at the top of their hitlist?” Shuichi shook his head. “Wooow,” he said. “How does a criminal like you get to be a detective? Withholding information from the police. I’m _ashamed_ of you.”

Shuichi felt his face heat up. He’d gotten enough of this from Maki. He knew that it would have been the sensible thing to do, but it was never right. The first time he didn’t really know his boss enough. The second it had shaken him up so badly he just wanted to forget it. But the third… he wasn’t really sure. By that point he was… he supposed he was used to it. He hadn’t even told Kaito about that one. In fact, Ouma was the first person he’d actually mentioned it to.

With that realisation he begun to feel a little offended.

“Then again, it’s not like I can talk,” the other suddenly said, giggling. “I mean, I’ve done _way_ worse than that.” He looked at his hands with a half-smile on his face. “I’m sure Momota’s told you enough though, hasn’t he? He _hates_ me. Can’t blame him honestly, I’m a piece of shit.” Then, his smile turned from mischievous to threatening and for a moment, Shuichi could see what Maki had been warning him about. It was hollow, emotionless and devoid of humanity. But it disappeared in a split second.

“Ah well.” His cheery demeanour returned in full force. He flashed Shuichi a beguiling smile and kicked his legs back and forward childishly. “That doesn’t matter as long my beloved Saihara-chan still likes me. Right?”

Shuichi didn’t move right away, but then nodded. “Yeah.” He chuckled and calmed down. He had to be honest with himself, he _did_ somewhat enjoy the other man’s company. “Yeah, I like you plenty Ouma. You’re fun to talk to.” He punctuated it with a genuine smile. “And for what it’s worth, I don’t think you’re a piece of shit.”

The other’s face went blank again. Shuichi still didn’t really know what to think of it, but he _couldn’t_ have offended him. He _couldn’t_ have.

“Thanks,” Ouma said quietly. He didn’t say anything else as he scrunched up his rubbish and rose to his feet. “I have a lecture in ten minutes. I should go.” He seemed oddly muted as he gathered his books in his arms. “I’ll see you later.”

“Okay,” Shuichi said, confused.

The young man left in a hurry, leaving Shuichi alone again, now quite a lot less restless and jittery. He smiled, puzzled but fond, and then remembered that he also had a lecture and promptly picked up his own bag and the soup, downing it in one go, ignoring the unpleasant sensation in favour of nourishment. He shuddered before throwing the cup at the dumpster and leaving (only after he put it in properly when it didn’t land).

The next Tuesday the police had entered the bank to find one of the vaults empty and a note which read ‘ _I bet you didn’t think about the secret tunnels under the bank. It’s an old building with secret emergency exits. Better luck next time_ ,’ laying on the floor, decorated with a bunch of childish drawings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the first of the longer chapters. They're never longer than 3,500 words, but i really like the longer chapters; those are definitely the best ones if you ask me. Thanks for reading!


	9. Chapter 9

“And so, he just slams on the brakes for no reason. I ask _why_ he decided it was necessary to give me whiplash at three in the morning and, can you fucking believe this, he says he’s gotta let the badger cross the street. And I’m like _what_ badger, there are no badgers anywhere and he points at a deflated ball on the side of the road. That’s when I realised he was probably too tired and more drunk than I was and forced him out of the driver’s seat.”

Kaito was loudly explaining his Friday night escapades spent with a guy in his Physical Science course after they’d gone to some party that Shuichi and Maki would have known no one at. It was stories like this that made Shuichi somewhat glad he hadn’t spent high school with Kaito, he hated to think what would be on his permanent record at that point. It was a miracle Kaito didn’t have anything.

“It’s a wonder neither of you crashed.”

“I know right!” Kaito exclaimed, gesticulating wildly. “I’m lucky to be alive right now. I mean, I like him fine, but I do _not_ understand how he managed to get a license. Seriously.”

Shuichi chuckled, and shook his head. “I sometimes wonder that about you too, man.”

Kaito pouted. “Not cool, dude, not cool.”

“He’s not wrong,” Maki commented, not looking away from her phone. “You are a _terrible_ driver.”

“You guys are jerks, I don’t know why I hang out with you,” Kaito shoved his hands in his pockets and kicked a stone, wincing when it hit a girl walking in its path.

“I think it’s because we won’t think worse of you for shit like that,” Maki answered, looking up at Kaito from the bench, eyebrow raised.

Kaito shrugged and slumped down next to her. “That’s why you’re the only girl I wanna go out with.” He draped his arm around her shoulders and pulled her into his chest.

Maki blushed faintly and scowled. “No, I’m just the only girl who ever actually said yes.” The only response to that was a fond hug.

The three of them were currently trying not to freeze in a park in the centre of town. All three of them had cooled cups of something or other clenched in one of their hands and their breaths fogged up in front of their faces.

Around them people were currently putting up marquees and stalls and parking food trucks. Others were hanging lanterns between trees and lampposts and paper chains from others.

As December rolled around people all over Kenkita grew excited for the Festival of New Beginnings, a holiday special to the city, welcoming winter and a chance to write over past mistakes; washed away with the colours of autumn. It was an occasion to hang out and do whatever. There was a traditional festival in the park with fireworks and food and singing and dancing. It was also an excuse to get shit faced with friends for anyone who liked that sort of thing.

It didn’t begin until the sun set and until then the three young adults had decided to see a movie; but once it had ended they just hung about the park, bored. Kaito took any excuse to start talking though, and had been filling the silence, gassing about his weekend.

Shuichi looked down at his phone, reading through the files his boss had sent him that morning in light of the bank holiday. He wasn’t one of those people who complained about extra work, he was always thinking about it anyway. His phone felt unsteady in his hand though, cold and slippery, so he put back in his pocket.

And it was a good job that he did, for he surely would have dropped it.

“Saihara-chan!”

“Argh!”

Without any warning whatsoever, Shuichi all of a sudden had Ouma hanging off of his arm.

“I didn’t expect to you find you out here!” the short man exclaimed, putting his face as much into Shuichi’s as standing on his tiptoes would allow. “It’s so _cold_. You must be insane to be out and about.”

“ _You’re_ out and about,” Shuichi replied indignantly, smiling gently and regaining his balance.

Ouma just shrugged and fell back onto his heels. “I guess. Though I’m not alone either, so don’t get me wrong, okay Saihara-chan? I have friends besides you.”

Shuichi nodded. “I know, I know. But, then why are you over here and not with them?”

“’Cause Kibou’s being annoying as shit and Rantarou’s just going with it and I got so _fucking_ bored and then I saw you and had to say ‘hi’.” He then looked over to Kaito and Maki, who both looked stunned and horrified and he pulled a sour face. “Then again, I suppose your company’s not much better than mine. Come on, let’s ditch ‘em all.” He started to pull on Shuichi’s arm, trying to drag him away.

“Ouma, I can’t just leave my friends because you showed up,” Shuichi tried to explain.

Ouma pouted melodramatically. “Why not!?” Shuichi could tell where this was going from a mile away. “I thought you _liked_ to spend time with me. Was that a lie? Were you _lying_ to me?” Then came the waterworks. “How… how could you do this to me Saihara-chan? I trusted you!” And then the nonsensical wailing.

Through the whole thing though, Shuichi just looked at him, half embarrassed, half amused, though mostly he was just worrying about having to explain this to Kaito and Maki.

When Ouma realised he was failing to get a rise out of Shuichi, he stopped and wiped the crocodile tears from his eyes. “Seriously though, I can’t be asked to spend any more time with those two. _Save me_.”

Shuichi sighed and patted the other on the shoulder. “I can’t. Not now.”

“But your friends are worse than mine are, come on!” He started pulling on his arm again.

Kaito, however, had had enough. “We’re right here, stop spewing shit,” he growled, standing up. “The hell do you think you’re doing?”

Ouma looked back at Kaito fearlessly, rather irritated more than anything. “That’s none of your business, Momota.”

“I’d think you trying to drag off my best friend while I’m hanging out with him, is more than my business, asshole.” Kaito was easily towering over Ouma, and Shuichi had to give it to the shorter male that he didn’t seem intimidated in the slightest.

Sighing, Ouma hung heavier on Shuichi’s arm. “Unfortunately, Saihara-chan, it would seem I am unwelcomed here. Though I don’t really care, I didn’t want to hang out with you anyway, you’re dull as hell,” he said, voice never wavering from monotone.

But then he yanked Shuichi down and whispered into his ear, “You know that’s a lie if there ever was one, though.” He pulled back and beamed. “I’ll see you later. Oh, oh, we should hang out tonight! At the thing.”

Shuichi looked up at Kaito who stared back in confused disbelief. He turned back to Ouma and nodded. “Yeah, sure. These two will want some private time anyway, I’m sure.”

Ouma looked utterly revolted and pretended to gag. “Urgh, that’s _gross_ Saihara-chan, I don’t want to think about _that_. My mind has been tainted for the rest of my life, blegh.” He shuddered but returned to normal shortly. “I’ll meet you here at seven, ‘kay?”

“Yeah, sure. I’ll see you then,” Shuichi agreed. Ouma then finally let go of his arm and skipped off to re-join the people he’d come with.

A very tense silence followed.

It lasted a long time.

It only ended when Kaito sighed deeply and turned to face Shuichi. “Dude… what the hell?”

“Yeah Shuichi,” Maki continued. “I thought we made it pretty clear that that guy should be in some sort of insane asylum. He is _dangerous._ ” She was grave and seemingly very concerned.

Shuichi began to stutter, looking for words and coming up with none. He just sort of floundered under their judgemental stares until he gave up and shrugged.

“I don’t know. We’re just… I guess we’re friends now.”

“Oh my god!” Kaito yelled. Maki just covered her face with gloved hands in exasperation. “Seriously Shuichi, what do you think you’re doing? That guy is a cruel, tyrannical waste of oxygen.”

“Okay,” Shuichi snapped. “That’s going too far.” He met Kaito’s eyes resolutely, rage bubbling over. “I don’t know how you two knew him in school, but from I’ve been exposed to, Ouma’s fine,” he hissed, quiet but venomous. “ _Fun_ , even. I _do_ like spending time with him and I don’t see why that should be _your_ problem.” Shuichi felt his face going red, his judgement clouding as he strode forwards until he was less than a foot from Kaito.

He stared up into his face, gaze piercing and malicious. “I’m allowed to spend time with whomever the _hell_ I want. You guys are my friends too, I’ve known _you_ sixteen years for god’s sake, but if you feel _threatened_ or something, then you’re just being an idiot. I don’t see why _my_ friends have to gain _your_ ,” he harshly jabbed his friend in the chest, “approval. So why don’t you go mind your own goddamned business.”

Kaito’s face was going red as well. His brow was furrowed, and eyes squinted in an incredulous anger. “Fucking hell, Shuichi, we’re just trying to look out for you. We’re talking about the guy who pushed me into a pool and broke my leg. The guy who threw a paintball at a school bus windscreen and got thirty kids into a crash. He turned all the gas taps on in the chemistry lab and caused a school wide evacuation for fear of everything blowing up. So I’m sorry if I get worried when my best friend starts hanging out with the same person who cut a trapdoor under the stage and opened it when the principle was delivering a speech, putting the guy in a wheelchair for two months. And here you are smiling and laughing, agreeing to meet up with this… this _sociopath_!?”

“Would you just stop!” Shuichi yelled, fists clenched and trembling. “I don’t care. I like Ouma. He’s easy to talk to, and he doesn’t think I’m some sort of fragile butterfly who can’t do anything for itself.”

“No one treats you like that!” Kaito interrupted.

Shuichi pushed Kaito hard. “ _You_ do. Both of you! Isoshi, Kaminara, my parents, _everyone!_ But Ouma doesn’t. He treats me like an adult and not like some delicate baby. He doesn’t stray away from touchy subjects, he doesn’t stop himself before saying something offensive, he just says whatever the hell he wants and doesn’t give a damn who hears or cares. And… and then he’s interesting and different and… I don’t know! I just really like it when he’s around because then I don’t have to care either. I can just forget everything when he’s there. I don't have to worry about Isoshi, or my future, or my parents, or  _Kaede_...” He paused abruptly then, feeling tears streaming down his face. He couldn’t keep going, he couldn’t think straight anymore.

He faltered and shrunk back in on himself. He took a few hasty steps back and wrapped his arms around his torso, gripping onto his upper arms so tightly it was a wonder he didn’t draw blood. “I-I…” he stuttered, refusing to meet their eyes. “I’m just gonna…” he turned to leave but was stopped when he felt arms wrap tightly around him and pat his back reassuringly.

“Shuichi, it’s okay,” Kaito said calmly. “Really.”

With so many overwhelming emotions building up all at once, Shuichi just couldn’t hold it back anymore and the tears started to flow freely down his cheeks as he silently sobbed into Kaito’s shoulder, leaning his weight onto the other, staining his shirt in tears and snot.

It wasn’t that long before Shuichi recomposed himself though, sniffling and wiping at his eyes. Maki handed him a tissue and he blew his nose, taking uneven shuddering breaths.

“I’m sorry, guys,” he said quietly, solemnly staring at the floor. “I shouldn’t have-”

“Shuichi, it’s fine,” Kaito abruptly cut him off, patting him on the shoulder. “Let’s just get you home. I mean, you have to be back to normal by seven after all, yeah?”

Shuichi nodded and smiled weakly. “Yeah.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well well, crying scene number 1. Yeah, there are quite a few points in this where Shuichi cries. This Shuichi is very emotional apparently. I mean, with what he goes through I like to think it's understandable but whatever.  
> I'll probably be posting two chapters tomorrow btw. Chapter 10 is not only short but rather unimportant. It's only two chapters because together I felt it would be a bit too long, so I'll just put em up together instead.  
> Till tomorrow!


	10. Chapter 10

It was still very cold later that night, more so, even. But now it was dark out and the park was busy and loud and jovial in general. Children were running about in thick coats and mittens, waving about sparklers and whacking light up foam swords at each other; old couples strolled between the stalls hand in hand, silhouetted by the warm glow of lanterns; and teenagers and young adults huddled around the smokiest food stands, making the most of the heat and laughing in harmony.

Shuichi, Kaito and Maki had been hanging around since the sun had gone down at five, bundled up better than they had been earlier: scarves, hats, gloves, fluffy socks, five coats, etcetera. They hadn’t done all that much, just strolled around, looked at the decorations, grabbed something warm to drink. The atmosphere was enough to make time pass swiftly and it was nearing seven before long.

Shuichi could tell how much Maki wanted to be alone with Kaito though, and with his best-friend-intuition, he could sense that Kaito probably wanted that too. After what had happened earlier though, it seemed that Kaito was determined not to leave Shuichi alone until he absolutely had to: not letting a second of silence hang in the air, always making sure they were engaged in some way or another. Maki had long cottoned on to it as well and had decided to do her best to achieve the same goal. It was the most Shuichi could recall hearing her say in half a week, let alone a few hours.

This aroused so intense a feeling of gratitude in Shuichi, that he knew it would be a hopeless cause to try to express it in words. But that was just sort of what their friendship was like.

Still, that feeling of them wanting to do something together, without him, made Shuichi _want_ them to leave and enjoy themselves.

“Really guys, I’m okay to wait alone. It won’t be long now,” he tried, kicking his heel against the brick wall he and Kaito were sat on. “You should go do couple-y things together.”

Kaito shook his head. “No way, man. I’m not going anywhere until that asswipe shows his face.” Despite earlier, Kaito still refused to be nice about Ouma. “What if he ditches you. It wouldn’t surprise me.”

Maki hummed in agreement. “If he does it while you two are hanging out, just call and we’ll meet up again okay?” she smiled at him sincerely. “And we won’t talk about it either.”

Shuichi rolled his eyes but smiled. “Thanks, but I think we’ll be okay. He’s never done it yet.”

“Yeah, actually,” Kaito propped his elbows on his legs and leant forward to look into Shuichi’s face, “how long _have_ you guys been friends? And how the hell didn’t we notice?”

“About a month and a half, I guess,” he answered, cocking his head in thought. “Though that is a good point, it’s not like I _tried_ to hide it from you.”

“Well maybe _I_ did.”

Shuichi whipped his head around in surprise to find Ouma stood directly behind him, Cheshire grin plastered across his face.

“Why would I want stinky old Momota-san knowing I was spending time with his precious best friend.” As he said this he draped his arms over Shuichi’s shoulders and sighed. “If he caught whiff of what I was doing he’d take you away from me in a heartbeat,” he whined, leaning completely on Shuichi’s back now. “You wouldn’t let him do that though, would you Saihara-chan?”

Shuichi laughed and shot Kaito and apologetic glance. “No, I wouldn’t.”

“We’ve already _had_ that discussion,” Kaito said, bitterly. “And we came to the conclusion that it wasn’t my business.”

“Which it isn’t,” Ouma agreed cheerfully. “Though I can’t for the life of me understand why you wouldn’t want me spending time with Saihara-chan. I’m nothing if not a perfect role model. I’m so angelic people should hail me as a saint.”

Kaito scoffed and stood up. “Yeah, whatever.” He turned back towards Shuichi, trying his best to ignore the other boy. “I have my phone if you need to call okay. Don’t do anything… y’know, Ouma worthy.”

Ouma gasped melodramatically, standing up with his hand splayed across his chest in an act of mock offense. “How can you hold me to such a low standard? What did I _ever_ do to you?” Shuichi could hear the oncoming crocodile tears in his tone.

However, Kaito just looked at him with a look of unbelieving distaste. “You broke my leg.”

“I didn’t _mean_ to. Wasn’t my fault that there was a pool where you decided to fall. I only pushed you.” Ouma’s tone had lost the whininess entirely and now sounded smug.

“You put laxatives in my lunch.”

“You made Gonta cry, was I supposed to _not_ avenge my dear friend?”

“I swatted a wasp that stung Yonaga-san, and Gokuhara-kun wasn’t your friend, you didn’t even like him!”

“Well of course I did, he was easy to manipulate.”

Kaito sighed exasperatedly and held his head in his hands. “Maki let’s just… let’s just go.”

She nodded and rose to her feet, the hint of an amused smile gracing her features.

“Again, Shuichi, call if you need to. Oh, call me when you get home too, okay?”

“Holy shit, Momota, you’re not his mum.”

Kaito just scowled and nodded at Shuichi before grabbing Maki’s hand and moodily dragging her away.

“Well aren’t they _fun_?” Ouma said, hopping over and taking Kaito’s place on the wall. “And I’d almost forgotten why we fell out.”

“Fell out?” Shuichi repeated, confused.

Ouma nodded. “Well yeah, Kaito and I were thick as thieves for the first year of high school. You couldn’t separate us. I blame Harukawa-san personally.”

Shuichi furrowed his brow for a second. “Okay, that _has_ to be a lie.”

“Well duh.” After kicking his legs back and forth for a few seconds, Ouma jumped back to his feet. “Are you just gonna sit there all night or what? I’m hungry.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So yeah, this chapter is pretty much just transitional into the next. See you guys in chapter 11.


	11. Chapter 11

They decided to get Okonomiyaki as Ouma liked that the stall was so colourful.

The area around it was warm, and rosy cheeked customers talked amongst themselves, pointing at the many foodstuffs adorning the stall, crowding around the humble cooks behind the counter, efficiently turning pancakes and preparing fillings.

Unsurprisingly, Shuichi had ended up paying for the complete mess of a meal Ouma ordered, but he didn’t really mind: the other looked so pleased with it that it really didn’t matter. They spent a lot of the time walking between stalls, Ouma rattling on about nothing with his mouth full of whatever, not really trying to avoid spitting food everywhere.

Shuichi pulled his coat further around himself as the wind blew a little harder. He had known it would be cold, but he still wasn’t quite prepared for just how cold it had turned out to be.

“Saihara-chan, let’s go over there!” Ouma suddenly began pulling on Shuichi’s arm, pointing towards the large shrine in the middle of the park where lots of people were gathered.

“Why?” he asked, letting the shorter man drag him off.

“Because it looks fun. Do I need a better reason?”

Families were gathered around as little children hung paper ornaments from the bushes surrounding the old structure. It looked rather tame and, by Ouma’s standards, boring.

Shuichi furrowed his brow. “Are you sure?”

“Yes, _God_ , Saihara-chan. What’s your problem?”

“Nothing, nothing.”

Contrary to what Shuichi had thought, Ouma was somehow enraptured by the trivial notion of coloured paper. He was just like an actual child, eyes sparkling in wonder as he bought three and tried to hang them on the highest branches of the largest bush.

He had succeeded in attempts one and two but for the third he was just that little bit too short for his aim of the uppermost branch. He was jumping to try and reach it while Shuichi was trying his best not to laugh.

“Stop it!” Ouma whined, pouting at Shuichi. “It’s not my fault I can’t reach it.”

“You could always ask for help,” he suggested, putting his hands in his pockets.

“I don’t _need_ help. I won the record for the high jump when I was twelve, I’m fine on my own,” he whined, resuming his efforts.

After another minute or so of that, he huffed and turned back to Shuichi. “I want you to lift me up.”

“Wh-what?” Shuichi stuttered, face going red. “I can’t do that, we’re both grown men!”

Ouma rolled his eyes. “I’m as light as a feather, Saihara-chan. Just pick me up! Come on.” He held his hands in the air like an indignant child, grinning impishly the whole time. “ _Please_.”

Shuichi opened and closed his mouth a few times like a fish gasping for air before giving up and complying. “How do you want me to do this?”

“Just lift me, it’s not hard Saihara-chan. You put your arms around my waist and lift with your legs not your back.”

“I thought you were ‘light as a feather’?”

“I am, but you look weak as shit.”

Shuichi sighed. “If I ever have a hope of becoming a police officer, I’d hope I can at least lift someone like you.”

“Then _do_ it. This weird ass paper thing isn’t going to hang itself from the tree,” he said, waving the purple paper in Shuichi’s face.

Awkwardly, Shuichi shuffled over and put his arms around Ouma’s waist, as instructed, hoisting him up so the other’s head was level with the branch he was aiming for.

But Ouma didn’t think it was good enough just to get it over and done with, like Shuichi silently hoped he would.

The other boy wrapped his legs around Shuichi’s waist and looked down at him smugly. “Look, Saihara-chan, I’m taller than you now!” He grinned and patted Shuichi’s shoulders.

“H-hey-!” Shuichi protested, his face blooming into an even deeper shade of red.

“I must be super lucky. I bet Saihara-chan would _never_ do this for anyone else.” Ouma was downright ecstatic as he looked back and forth across the crowd instead of hanging the _damned ornament._

“O-Ouma-kun, just put the thing on the tree. Hurry up!” Shuichi pleaded, flustered.

Ouma groaned but complied, leaning over to hang the small purple ornament on the tree. “There.”

“Okay, now let go of me and get down.” Shuichi was starting to register a group of giggling schoolgirls off to the side and didn’t appreciate the attention. “Or I’ll just let you fall.”

“You don’t mean that, Saihara-chan. You wouldn’t hurt me, now, would you?”

Shuichi, in a rare act of defiance, let go.

Ouma began to panic and flail before latching his arms around Shuichi’s neck and panting from the shock.

“What the… What was that for!?” Ouma seemed genuinely confused for a moment, and Shuichi would even say slightly hurt. “That was so mean Saihara-chan!” he started to cry then, screaming at the top of his lungs.

Now it was Shuichi’s turn to panic. It had turned into the worst-case scenario.

“Just… get off. Come on, people are staring!” he said through gritted teeth, anxiety welling up at the base of his stomach.

Ouma moodily clambered down and crossed his arms. “You’re no fun Saihara-chan. You’re a big meanie; I don’t think we can be friends anymore.”

Shuichi knew for a fact that the boy was being melodramatic, and probably lying and would revert to his prior cheerfulness in a matter of seconds, but those words still, for some reason, really hurt him. They sent an ice-cold shiver down his spine.

He didn’t quite know exactly why, but it hit him that that wasn’t a prospect he could deal with at the moment, it wasn’t something he wanted to even think about.

Apparently, it showed on his face though, because, instead of reverting to cheerful, Ouma looked taken aback and confused.

“Saihara-chan… you do know I didn’t mean it, right?”

“Huh? O-oh, yeah, I did. I just… nothing,” Shuichi shook it off. “What do you want to do next?”

Ouma looked rather suspicious at the sudden change of topic but seemed to think better of himself and went with it. He looked around to the clock tower looming over head.

“The singing crap starts in ten minutes. So, we want to be nowhere within ten miles of it.”

Shuichi laughed weakly. “I would have thought _that_ would be something you would enjoy.”

“Well you would be wrong then.” He ran around Shuichi and started pushing him from behind. “I dislike the sound of screeching banshees as much as the next person. Therefore, we are going to the river bank where no one is around at this time.”

“If I didn’t know any better I’d say you just want to be alone with me,” Shuichi joked, making a feeble attempt to play Ouma at his own game. But when he didn’t get any silly quip in response, and the pressure on his back stopped, he turned around to look at the other.

He was stood a few paces behind, that blank look Shuichi rarely got to see adorning his face. When he saw Shuichi looking his way though, Ouma hastily averted his eyes and skipped back up to Shuichi’s side.

“Oh Saihara-chan, you _pervert_. I didn’t know you thought about me _that_ way.” The teasing words didn’t quite have the playful bite to them that was Ouma’s signature.

Nevertheless, Shuichi blushed and began stuttering again, rejecting all notions of such a thing. Ouma simply continued to drag him towards the river on the far side of the park where, true to his words (surprisingly), far less people were congregated.

Shuichi was pushed into a sitting position and Ouma sat next to him on the cold, hard earth. The dying grass crunched quietly under them and the cold breeze was fiercer next to the river. Shuichi pulled his fleece hat further over his ears and rubbed warmth into his cheeks.

Looking over at Ouma though, he noticed for the first time that night that the other had very few layers on. From what Shuichi could tell he only had a coat, no gloves, scarf, anything. And he looked like he was freezing.

“Hey, are you warm enough?” he asked, concerned.

“Hmm?” Ouma looked up at Shuichi curiously. “Oh, yeah I’m good. I don’t feel the cold, didn’t I tell you Saihara-chan? It was a defect I was born with, temperature is a foreign concept to me. I could be burning alive or developing frostbite and be none the wiser.”

Shuichi stared back at him, ignoring the obvious lie, concern etched into his expression. “No, I’m being serious. It’s below freezing.”

Almost as if fate had planned it, at that exact moment the first snow of the season started to fall gently, landing soundlessly around them.

The two young men looked at each other for a second longer before Ouma began to laugh. Genuinely laugh, because of something actually funny and ironic. Not because he’d pranked someone or because something misfortunate had happened to someone around him. It was strange to Shuichi, he enjoyed seeing Ouma so honestly enjoying himself.

Despite himself however, he was still worried.

So, deciding he could get by with one less layer, Shuichi shrugged off his outermost coat and draped it over Ouma’s shoulders.

Ouma stopped laughing quite abruptly at that. He again refused to make eye contact, but instead of bouncing back from it, he remained muted. The silence hung thickly between them, Shuichi too awkward to say anything to break it.

When the snow picked up a bit though, Shuichi thought it would probably be best to move. “Do you want to go get something warm to drink?”

Ouma quietly nodded, and rose to his feet, pulling the coat more securely around himself. Shuichi followed suit and took the initiative, dragging Ouma this time and heading for the bridge a hundred yards off to cross the river onto the Main Street.

It was late, but Shuichi found that there were plenty of cafés still open, a lot of them full of cold young adults and teenagers.

He pushed Ouma into one, led him to a table and began stripping off some of his own layers, dropping his hat and scarf onto the table, as the building was blissfully warm compared to the snowy night beyond the shopfront window. He pulled out his wallet and turned to Ouma, who still hadn’t moved, apparently still trapped in his own head: his expression hadn’t changed much, still blank and pink from the cold.

“I’m going to go and order. What do you want?” he asked, bending down to look into his face.

Ouma blinked out of his daze and focused on Shuichi. “Oh…” he didn’t seem to realise that they were in the café until then, looking around briefly before looking at the floor. “Um… Hot Chocolate… please.”

Shuichi was a little put off by the other’s mysterious manners and oddly unconfident stuttering, but nodded and walked off regardless, returning a little while later with two piping hot drinks, steam rising from the plastic lids of the cups.

He set the drinks down next to his things and sat down across from Ouma, who still had Shuichi’s coat wrapped tightly around him. But now he seemed rather chipper and back to normal, which if Shuichi was honest certainly made him feel relieved, but also somewhat disappointed. It was like he had been seeing past Ouma’s façade, an Ouma who wasn’t sure of himself and didn’t know exactly what to say.

“It needs more sugar.”

Ouma had already tried his drink and had pulled a face of displeasure. He reached for the small mound of sugar packets Shuichi had brought in the middle of the table, picked up all four sachets and quickly poured the contents of each into the cup. Shuichi smiled fondly, knowing for sure that his friend was pretty much completely normal again.

“Surely it all just sits at the bottom?” Shuichi asked, sipping at his own coffee which was as black as tar and bitter as raw cacao.

“Sugar dissolves,” he stated as if Shuichi was stupid for not having known it, which of course he _did_ know. “Silly Saihara-chan.”

“Yeah, but you can’t dissolve _that_ much sugar in to near saturated water,” Shuichi shot back. “It must be disgusting.”

Ouma shrugged. “To you maybe. But you see Saihara-chan, I can’t taste anything unless it’s too strong for normal people like you. When I was little I accidentally downed a cup of acid my mad scientist dad left about the house and it eroded my taste buds off.”

Shuichi laughed and nodded. “Okay,” and he let the subject drop.

Ouma picked up conversation again from there, happily talking about this and that, asking Shuichi random questions and lying in response to any Shuichi might venture to ask.

Once they had both finished, and Shuichi had disposed of their trash, Ouma brought up that nights fireworks.

“They start at ten, so we need to get back to the park like yesterday.”

Shuichi looked at his watch and realised that he was right.

“Okay, let me just…” Shuichi said as he picked up the last of his things and followed Ouma outside into the snow.

He was about to wrap his scarf around himself when he looked back down to Ouma, who had now properly put Shuichi’s coat on and was contentedly hugging it around himself, but still looked a bit too underdressed for Shuichi’s liking. He was probably just being a worrywart, but he still opted for wrapping it around the other boy instead.

“Hey!” Ouma called out, panicking as a piece of cloth was tightly tied around his neck. “Saihara-chan, were you _trying_ to give me a heart attack?” he asked indignantly, but not stopping Shuichi as he secured the soft fabric in place. “I’ve already had eight in my life, I don’t need any more.”

“You still looked cold,” he simply answered, falling into step beside Ouma as they made their way down the street and across the river. “I think I’m satisfied now, though.”

“Do you really think so Saihara-chan? Maybe you should check!” He started grabbing to pull off Shuichi’s gloves, but Shuichi wasn’t the least bit inclined to expose his hands to the cold like that.

Ouma pouted for a little while but eventually calmed and fell into step with Shuichi, strolling merrily alongside him. He kicked his legs out like a child as he walked, hands behind his back, head looking up and _not_ where he was going. Shuichi was definitely being too mother hen-ish, but it still irked him a little.

“It’s a shame that it’s snowing. The sky’s all cloudy,” Ouma commented innocently. “You can’t see the stars.”

“You can rarely see the stars in Kenkita anyway,” Shuichi pointed out, still keeping a close eye on where Ouma stepped. He didn’t want him slipping up on the increasingly icy cobblestones.

“I suppose,” he sighed, now linking his fingers behind his head. “Why are you staring at me?”

Shuichi instantly ripped his eyes away. “I wasn’t”

“Yes, you were, Saihara-chan. I already told you that you can’t lie for shit.”

“That’s a little unfair. I _can_ lie.”

Ouma scoffed. “Anyone _can_ lie, but only some people can actually _lie_ ,” he explained, rather unhelpfully.

Shuichi furrowed his brow in thought for a moment when the other didn’t elaborate any further. “You’re talking about getting away with it, right?”

“Not really,” Ouma said, looking off down the street as they crossed to get onto the bridge. “It’s more of a… motivational thing.”

This confused Shuichi further; he thought he halfway understood before. “Do you mean ‘motivational’ as in motive or inspiration?”

“Both.”

Ouma glanced at him coyly and lowered his arms, linking them behind his back again. But he didn’t say anything further.

It took a while before Shuichi could piece together his thoughts to form another semi-conclusion. “So why you lie _as_ _well_ as what you lie about.”

He didn’t receive any response. Shuichi took this to mean that he was on the right track. Still, it didn’t really help.

“Or is it understanding _why_ you are lying?”

Again, no response.

“Or when? Or how? Or _who_ you’re lying to?”

“All of it.”

“Huh?”

Ouma laughed and looked up at Shuichi. “You’re trying to categorise it. It’s more of a whole.” He used his hands to draw a circle. “You can’t just… lie. It’s different. And very few people seem to really know why. But I know you’ll figure it out; because you’re my beloved Saihara-chan, and you can do anything.”

Shuichi looked into Ouma’s eyes and saw… honesty? A sense of earnest he hadn’t seen on the other before.

But before he could much react to it beyond a smile, Ouma perked up suddenly and grabbed Shuichi’s hand, taking off at a sprint and dragging the taller man behind him.

The fireworks started almost immediately once they reached the bank they were sat on before, the grass now covered in a thin layer of snow.

The two of them decided, after the fireworks ended, that it was probably a good point at which to part ways and retire for the night.

“Well that was a waste of time,” Ouma moaned as they reached the nearest park exit. “I would have thought you would be more entertaining company, Saihara-chan.” He paused before smiling mischievously. “But that was a lie too. Thank you, Saihara-chan, for putting up with me for so much time. I certainly had fun tonight, even if you didn’t.”

“No, I really enjoyed myself. I should be thanking you for inviting me. No seriously,” he said when Ouma looked up at him sceptically. “You said yourself I’m hopeless at lying. And I really mean it when I say I like spending time with you. It’s fun.”

Ouma shook his head. “Wow, there really must be something wrong with you to want to spend time with a lair like me, but…” he looked at the ground and kicked at a clump of snowy grass. “You’re welcome I suppose.” And without warning he tackled Shuichi in a brief hug.

Shuichi had barely regained his balance before Ouma withdrew and began to skip off, waving. “See you later Saihara-chan!”

“Bye Ouma-kun,” he called back, waving in return. He then turned around and headed to his apartment in the opposite direction.

Upon getting home he’d completely forgotten about his promise to call Kaito and was rudely awakened the next morning when his friend barged into his apartment with the spare key Shuichi left with him in case he lost his own, shouting about being worried and broken promises and betrayal and so on.

But Shuichi didn’t really care, the previous night had been more than worth it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope guys can understand why I split the chapters, this one was just really long otherwise. Anyway, this chapter was pretty much pure fluff and I really loved writing this one, even though I think the actual writing is a bit lacklustre and clumsy. It'll probably be subject to editing later. (chapter has now been edited and I hope is now less clunky)  
> I think now is as good a point as ever to explain a little about this strange city. It's basically a huge amalgamation of Japanese, American and English things (primarily Japanese but I've probably butchered it all anyway for the sake of the plot) There was a very definite reason that I made the setting a fictional city.  
> Regardless I'm really glad that you guys are enjoying this story so much! Be ready for the extreme tonal shift into the depressing for chapter 12 though.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quick trigger warning: this chapter deals with the loss of loved ones. For those to whom it may apply, please read with discretion.

The February weather outside the small, cold car was fittingly dreary: wet, grey and dark, the rain that had been pummelling on the windshield having only just let up.

Shuichi sat in the passenger seat, looking out the window as the car caused puddles to spray up onto the brick wall on the side of the road that was quickly receding to show the equally grey rural landscape hidden behind it. In his arms rested a small bouquet of flowers, all in different shades of purple and pale pink and white, freshly cut and still full of fragile life, a small splash of colour on its monochromatic surroundings.

Saihara Isoshi, Shuichi’s uncle, sat in the driver’s seat. He was a tall, lean man with messy hair the exact same shade of black as Shuichi’s. He had frown lines permanently etched into his forehead at only thirty-nine and his mouth showed no evidence of ever being used to smile in all those years. He came across as an unapproachable person with a harsh outline and a murky personality, who had probably seen some of the most depressing things humanity had to offer; and as an ex-homocide detective, unsurprisingly, he had.

On a regular day, one might be surprised to find out the two men were at all related, but right then they could have been brothers from the disconsolate expressions adorning their faces. Their eyes seemed to share a perpetual pain, deep and familial, as they stared out into their gloomy surroundings.

“We’ll be there in ten,” Isoshi said, eyes flicking over to his dejected nephew. “Flowers okay?”

Shuichi hummed quietly in affirmation, looking down at the bouquet and patting the soft petals gently.

His uncle nodded, and they carried on in silence until Isoshi drew the car up and parked outside a large cemetery where the two climbed out into the damp, winter air.

“You okay?” Isoshi asked, nudging Shuichi with his elbow.

Shuichi nodded and started off ahead of his uncle, leading the way through the narrow rows of graves.

They weren’t the only ones there. A couple of people milled the rows around them, one had flowers similarly to Shuichi, another gripped the hands of a loved one as they stared at the wet headstones and some others were just stood alone. Shuichi didn’t know any of them, if he ever had, he’d forgotten; he hadn’t lived there for a long time and hadn’t been back since the same time the previous year.

The muddy grass squelched under foot as the two men slowly made their way across the graveyard, mindful of the people around them and respectfully quiet. They stopped near the far end of the cemetery, in front of a grave similar to the surrounding ones, small wild flowers growing were around it, the grass neatly trimmed, and the stone was still smooth, slick with the recent rain.

Shuichi placed the flowers in front of it and stood silently.

Isoshi patted Shuichi’s shoulder comfortingly, but he didn’t react, staring at the grass about his feet and the mud that specked the battered, old trainers he’d pulled on that morning without thinking after his uncle had had to drag him out of bed. He’d skipped breakfast, at the older man’s dissent.

A faint buzzing suddenly went off and Isoshi grabbed for his phone, looking at the caller id. “Sorry, Shuichi, it’s work, I need to take this. You’ll be alright?” he asked gruffly but compassionately, regretful at the interruption. Shuichi just nodded, not looking up, and the other walked off hurriedly, muttering quietly into the device.

Shuichi didn’t know how long he was stood there for, but it didn’t feel like a long time before he was interrupted again, but by someone completely unexpected.

“Wow, it seems like wherever I go, I always seem to run into you, Saihara-chan,” Ouma remarked, lightly stepping through the mud to stand next to Shuichi. “This truly is a pleasant surprise, no?”

Shuichi looked up from his feet and into Ouma’s face. He seemed to be in neutrally happy mood, but Shuichi just stared at him with barren, red rimmed eyes. He hadn’t been crying since very early that morning, but the evidence was still there.

“You look cheerful,” Ouma said, though his face seemed to show nothing but concern, devoid of any sarcastic grin that would usually accompany a statement like that.

Shuichi didn’t respond, he looked back down to the grave and the flowers soaking up the muddy water pooling around the headstone. They would lose their colour soon, then they would be eaten by animals, or cleared away by the groundsmen, or they would just lay there rotting. Either way they would eventually die.

“Hey, Saihara-chan?” Ouma said, worry laced in his voice as he placed a hand on Shuichi’s shoulder.

Ouma stayed quiet for a while, watching Shuichi as he stewed in his inescapable pit of depression.

“Shall I go?” he asked quietly, leaning in, hand not having moved.

Shuichi tried to think about it, any and all trains of thought fragmented and coming and going through the curtain of emotions draped over his mind. When Ouma pulled away though, taking his silence as a yes, Shuichi instinctively reached out and grabbed his arm.

After a moment of trying to find his voice, he shook his head. “No… please.” His voice cracked, but was loud enough that the other heard.

Neither of them said anything further but Ouma came back to stand close to Shuichi’s side.

Shuichi found the other boy’s presence to be overwhelmingly comforting. He provided a strange sense of security that Isoshi just couldn’t, despite practically raising him. It was a feeling he hadn’t felt since the decomposed body below him was still alive.

It took a while for Shuichi to work up the courage to try and say something, but just as he was about to speak, Ouma stopped him.

“You don’t need to say anything,” he said gently, taking and squeezing Shuichi’s hand. “Don’t feel that you need to. But if you _want_ to talk about it, I’ll listen.”

Shuichi stared at Ouma, an ocean of new emotions and thoughts thrashing about in his mind. Then he swallowed and cleared his throat.

“She died three years ago.”

Ouma didn’t say anything, just stood there quietly and patiently.

“I’ve known Kaito since I was young, I grew up with my parents in Kenkita, but I came here to live with my uncle when I was ten.” Shuichi took a deep breath before continuing. “So, I had to leave Kaito then, I still saw him but… when I chose to go study under Isoshi, I hadn’t really thought that bit out… I met her at school, though, and she was my only friend for eight years.”

Still, Ouma stood there in silence, but he looked up to meet Shuichi’s eyes and gave him a small encouraging smile.

Shuichi smiled back weakly. “I didn’t really ever talk to anyone else. It was… it was when she died that I decided I’d go to the university instead of just working with Isoshi more… It was meningitis. She got sick and died in just under twelve hours.”

His throat felt raw, his eyes were stinging, and his chest was tight; it was a miracle he hadn’t yet devolved into tears again.

“You can stop,” Ouma reminded him, squeezing his hand again. Shuichi vaguely took note of the fact that he hadn’t let go in that time but ignored that otherwise curious matter to clench Ouma’s hand tighter, hanging on to him like a lifeline, and taking deep, shuddering breaths.

“It’s… It would probably be re… redundant to say that after so long… I…” Shuichi stuttered out, voice shaky and trying to control his urge to sob.

“You loved her,” Ouma stated simply, staring down at the grave. “Akamatsu Kaede,” he read off of the shiny headstone. “To gain _your_ affection she must have been really special.”

The wind howled through the trees a few hundred yards off, echoing around the quiet graveyard. It made Shuichi flinch, but Ouma nudged his shoulder into Shuichi’s arm reassuringly.

“Yeah,” he agreed quietly, nodding. “Kaede… she… she was just…” he tried to take another deep breath, but a choked sob broke it off. He stood there in silence for a second, regaining control of his voice box. “She was incredible. You… it was impossible to n-not love her… She was just… She was one of those p-people.”

He let out a faint chuckle. “She played the piano,” he said, a sad smile splitting his face painfully. “Like, all the t-time… She was really good… W-well, that was an un… an understatement. Some people… called her ‘Piano Freak’ but she could… weave _magic_ on ivory.”

He took another moment to recompose himself, tears starting to leak from the corners of his eyes. His trembling hand still held on tightly to Ouma’s, earthing himself. He knew that if the other wasn’t there, he’d be a complete mess by then.

“I wish you could have heard her. You would…” he laughed weakly. “She was the sort of person I think… that, that you would probably hate but when she… it was impossible when she was in front of her piano. She was so… it’s probably… probably cliché b-but… she was kind to a… to an unrealistic extent, almost a fault. She was too optimistic sometimes but when,” his voice hitched briefly. “But when she started one of her peppy-coach-encouraging-everyone speeches I swear the room lit up with her…her…” he trailed off, throat so tight he was finding it hard to breathe, let alone speak.

“She sounds like an angel,” Ouma remarked, filling the silence, his tone holding sincerity and a desire to make Shuichi happy. Shuichi didn’t know if he was being honest, but it didn’t matter, because Ouma seemed to know what he needed to hear. “The way you speak about her, the world would appear to have been robbed of a bounteous treasure.”

They looked at each other for a long time before Shuichi broke eye-contact and looked back down at Kaede’s grave. That was when the floodgates broke, he just couldn’t keep it up anymore. Sobs tore through his whole body, shaking his core and tears flowed freely down his cheeks, pooling at his chin and staining his shirt. He hunched his shoulders and rubbed at his eyes, trying to dry them fruitlessly.

Ouma stayed silent, but he leant against Shuichi, so their sides were flush. The added contact, for reasons Shuichi couldn’t explain right then, was overwhelmingly comforting and he instinctively leant into Ouma as well, weeping silently until his tear ducts dried up and his throat felt like sandpaper. He stood and hiccoughed harshly.

“Thank you…” Shuichi whispered, voice hoarse. He let go of Ouma’s hand and stuffed them both into his pockets, pulling out a tissue to rub the mucus from his nose. “I don’t think I could…” he started, attempting to express his profound gratitude but not knowing how to continue. “I… I um…” he mumbled, casting his eyes down.

“Really, Saihara-chan, how many times do I have to say it,” Ouma’s tone was playful and teasing and normal again. “You don’t need to speak if you don’t want to.”

Taking Ouma’s advice for a few seconds, Shuichi kept quiet before asking, “Why are _you_ here, Ouma-kun?”

He didn’t respond immediately. But when he did, all traces of the gentle compassion and understanding was gone, the hard mask back firmly in place. “Well aren’t you nosy Saihara-chan?” he said cheekily, although with a sharp edge to his words. “Though I suppose I only owe it to you after everything you just told me.”

“You don’t owe me _anything_.”

That definitely caught the shorter man off guard, but the defence didn’t drop.

“I don’t know how much of what I say you are inclined to believe at this point, Saihara-chan, but I’m about to tell you the honest truth which no one else aside from the grave digger and a lawyer know.” He looked up at Shuichi deadly serious, so much so that it was intimidating. Shuichi had known Ouma for half a year though, and knew better than to recoil or openly react at all. “Therefore, I must ask you to never pass this information on to anyone. Do you understand? _No one_ aside from you can know about this.”

Shuichi nodded firmly.

Ouma took a deep breath and the muted smile from earlier returned.

“It is my mother’s birthday today, and I’m here to visit her. Both my parents are buried here, and have been since I was six.”

Shuichi absorbed the information calmly and nodded again. He reached and took Ouma’s hand, trying to be the comforting presence this time.

Ouma giggled at the action and leant in closer. “Aww, Saihara-chan cares about me!”

“I thought that was obvious?” he asked, amused.

The other faltered slightly but quickly recollected himself. “Well of course, even stupid Momota could see that. Anyway, come on, I need to introduce you to mum and dad, they’re just over there. I know they’d have loved you!”

He let Ouma pull him over to two graves identical to all the others surrounding it, but they were much more important to the two young men stood in front of them. The shorter told about the deceased cheerfully, lies and truth jumbled all together in a somewhat cosy mess.

Ten minutes later, Isoshi trudged over to the two young men and informed Shuichi that they’d need to be leaving soon, looking quizzically at the person he hadn’t yet been acquainted with.

Before Shuichi got the chance to introduce Ouma to his uncle though, Ouma excused himself, saying goodbye, giving Shuichi a friendly and extremely tight hug before running off.

“Does that mean you’re ready to go or…” Isoshi asked, eyebrow raised quizzically.

The two of them made their way back to the car and drove off to Isoshi’s place of work in the middle of the city.

Sat in the car though, Shuichi felt significantly better than he had driving out. His burden felt lighter and he sat up taller in his seat, head held higher as he looked out the window.

“Who was that person you were with?” Isoshi asked, not looking over at his nephew.

“Ouma Kokichi, he’s a friend.”

“From Kenkita?”

“Yeah.”

“What was he doing all the way out here?”

Shuichi looked over at his uncle, remembering what Ouma had told him earlier. _No one._ “I have no idea, but I’m glad he was.”

Isoshi nodded and gave Shuichi a side-glance, not missing the smile that ghosted his features. He didn’t know what happened while he was off, but it was definitely a good thing, whatever it was. Shuichi was almost glowing with levity and, when he turned to switch on the radio, Isoshi grinned broadly, a rare feat, knowing that his nephew was getting on with his life, finding new people to help heal old wounds.

“Are you alright?” Shuichi asked, confused and slightly panicked upon seeing his uncle smiling. “Oh god, you’ve finally cracked.”

“Shut up, brat.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I honestly believe that this chapter may say something about myself with how depressing some of it is, although I also think that it's some of my best writing to date (I still want to get better tho). I hope you guys get the message regardless.  
> That's enough with the hyper-depressing stuff though, it's dramatic but clear skies from here on (I mean there's angst but nothing like this y'know)  
> And thank you for your continued support :D


	13. Chapter 13

Kaminara had given Shuichi a lot of responsibility despite his low status. Shuichi had proven to be _very_ good at what he did and had helped solve a lot of serious crimes since he had started. The Dice problem still stood of course, although they had been significantly less active for reasons unknown and they had dropped all leads until further notice, but Shuichi had been helping with other matters.

These other matters happened to include a four-month-old homicide case that had all but gone stale, and which Kaminara had thrown Shuichi’s way when he asked for some more challenging work. He had laughed in his boisterous way and given Shuichi a hearty pat on the back, saying something about expecting no less from a Saihara and explaining that they were on the brink of closing the case as unsolved with allowance of a resurfacing.

After four days Shuichi had done some digging and found the guilty party, who was behind bars a week later.

Needless to say, it caused the local media to explode.

Shuichi had given up attention like that a long time ago and hadn’t had to deal with it in over a decade, and he had preferred it that way. He’d enjoyed the quiet life with his uncle, working in marital affairs, missing pets and general private investigation. Now, however, every news station was now talking about the hotshot rookie detective in Kenkita who solved a dead murder case in less than a week of working on it.

He found weird people with recording machines around every corner, and random people wherever he went knew his name and began fawning over him, calling him a genius, saying they felt safer with him working for the city, etcetera.

It stressed him out. He didn’t feel like he deserved all the praise. All he’d done was manage to worm a small statement out a shy first party who had been afraid to speak to any of the official-looking, intimidating police officers with badges and flashy uniforms when asked in for questioning. Shuichi, being only a few years older than the girl, a lot smaller, less scary and socially awkward himself had quite easily been able to gain her trust and gain the new evidence, of which all but spelled out the culprit’s name in flashing neon lights. And that was why he was now being showered with love and adoration and it freaked him out.

In light of this, Shuichi had been reluctant to spend much time on his own. He was lucky that Kaito had had the exact same idea.

First thing every morning Kaito woke him up at eight sharp and took it upon himself to personally escort Shuichi to work or the university, whichever he was heading to. When he had to leave, either he or Maki came back to walk with him to his next destination. Shuichi had to admit, he felt especially safe when Maki was walking with him, she made a _perfect_ bodyguard.

Throughout this though, Ouma still also managed to squeeze himself into Shuichi’s day whenever he could.

Ouma had a _very_ strong opinion on Shuichi’s newfound attention. He hated it _vehemently_.

“Why do I have to share my beloved Saihara-chan,” he had whined the first time they had to deal with some weird fan. Throughout the exchange Shuichi had just agreed to take a picture with the young girl while Ouma looked on, revolted. “I already have to share you with Momota and Harukawa, and your work, and your uncle, and you have to have ‘time to yourself’,” he complained, dragging his feet as they walked. “I don’t get to see you _nearly_ enough as it is!” This statement was completely unfounded as he hung onto Shuichi at every chance he got, not that he minded at all.

But this was his Ouma’s opinion on the matter and it was quite obvious that nothing would change that. If anyone started anything fanatical when he was around they were harassed and bombarded with childish insults until they took the hint, which was often rather quickly, and left. Shuichi’s reputation never seemed to go down though; it wasn’t _him_ acting childishly after all. Though it never failed to make him laugh.

“I still don’t see how you can stand him, man,” Kaito said, walking Shuichi home one night. “I mean, I knew him for three years and not once could I bear to be in the same room as him unless forced.”

Shuichi laughed and kicked at a stone in his path. It skidded across the street and hit a bin loudly. He winced but continued. “I don’t know, we’re different people. I just find what you find annoying… fun, I suppose.”

“So, you _like_ it when he lies to, like, _everything_ anyone ever says?”

“He can be honest with _me..._ occasionally. Besides,” Shuichi shrugged, stuffing his hands into his pockets, “it’s funny, because you can tell when he does it or not.”

Kaito stared at him incredulously. “Since when has it been possible to tell the difference?”

“Since always I guess,” Shuichi admitted. “If I had to guess, I’d say it’s because you just don’t want to try.”

Kaito thoughtfully hummed in agreement. He then noticed someone recognise Shuichi and steered him down a side street. “It doesn’t really matter though. I’ve sort of come to terms with it, as long as you’re happy y’know?”

That caught Shuichi off guard. Kaito did nothing but complain and lament the loss of his friend’s innocence whenever Ouma was the topic of conversation, which fortunately wasn’t often. But he hadn’t ever shown any hint of “coming to terms with it”. He’d acknowledged it as a thing, yes. He’d completely stopped telling Shuichi he couldn’t be friends with Ouma too. He even finally seemed to understand that while he may not like him, Shuichi definitely did and there was nothing to be done about it. But accepting it? _That_ was new.

“What on earth are you talking about?”

“Dude?!” Kaito looked offended. “I’m happy as long as you’re happy! I thought I was your best friend. Am I not _allowed_ to be happy for my sidekick? Do you want me to not be happy for you?”

“Stop saying happy so much.”

“Whatever. I don’t see the problem is here.”

“The problem is that you hate the fact that I spend so much time with Ouma-kun, and now that’s changed?”

They turned out of the side street and came out further down the one they were on earlier.

“Well…” Kaito said peppily, slinging his arm around Shuichi’s shoulders. “I was speaking to Harumaki about it-”

“Why were you and Maki talking about it?”

Kaito ignored him and continued. “-and she said how I should be happy that you’ve found someone besides me to hang out with, as there’ll be a point where I’m in space and she’s doing shit abroad etcetera.”

“You won’t be going to space for a while Kaito,” Shuichi pointed out, completely failing to disrupt his train of thought.

“So, like the good friend I am, I thought it over for ages. Like, a lot, because you are right, I _really_ hate that that vermin managed to trick you into enjoying his company. Then, back in March, I realised that you two get along really good. And it’s like so much of your shit doesn’t bother you anymore and I’m just glad you’ve finally managed to move on.”

Shuichi stopped walking abruptly. “What do you mean by ‘move on’?”

Kaito looked at him perplexed. “Y’know man… move on. As in get over. You’re, like, not depressed anymore.”

“Since when have I been depressed? I haven’t been depressed since I got back into Kenkita.”

“No.” Kaito shook his head. “No, no. You were depressed until about six months ago. You’ve been my sidekick sixteen years now, I know you better than _anyone_ in the world and you know it. Why else would you of all people let a burglar sit on your bed and have idle chitchat with them until they decided it was time to go?”

Kaito made a very good point but it began worrying Shuichi.

“But then you start hanging out with Ouma and suddenly you’re back to your old self. I mean look at you! You’re famous, man! And it’s thanks to your brilliance, the brand only _my_ sidekick could have. Like, while I don’t like it, it’s obvious that little shittard is good for you. You’ve moved on.”

“From what?”

He didn’t respond. Kaito looked really awkward very suddenly. His eyes shifted, and he began um-ing and err-ing and fiddling with his hands. “Y-you know…”

“No, Kaito, I _don’t_ know,” he spat in monotone. Shuichi had a very good idea of what he was getting at.

Kaito did _not_ want to say it but he had dug himself into the hole and had to get himself out of it, even if it wouldn’t be pretty. He’d already angered Shuichi enough as it was.

He took a deep breath and blurted it out. “Moved on from Akamatsu-san.”

They stood in tense silence, the city moving noisily around them.

Shuichi sighed and stared hard at Kaito. The taller young man flinched under such a harsh glare and turned away slightly, the gaze still sharp on his face.

“Look, dude, I’m sorry but it’s true-”

“Shut up, Kaito, you have no idea what you are talking about.” Shuichi was frighteningly calm, voice barely above a whisper. His hands were clenched in fists though, shaking violently. “You weren’t there. You were here. You can’t talk as if you know _anything_.”

“Shuichi-”

“No, I said shut _up_.” Kaito was immediately silenced. “Now if you don’t mind,” he continued, sighing and doing his best to calm down, “let’s drop this topic, never ever bring it up again, and you can continue in your selfless efforts to protect me from weird fans and reporters.”

Kaito nodded curtly and they carried on along the street, not uttering another word until they reached Shuichi’s apartment, at which point they muttered short goodbyes and parted ways.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're on the downhill slope towards the climax now. High point is over, the plane will start crashing soon.  
> I felt like this chapter was kind of short and dull, although it does have long lasting consequences. Next chapter is a tad more exciting tho, so look forward to that.  
> BTW, I don't know if it was quite apparent but Shuichi is SUPER sensitive about Kaede in this, which is why he sort of went off on one at the end there.


	14. Chapter 14

There was barely a second that went by that Shuichi didn’t regret it profoundly, but his relationship with Kaito had become noticeably strained.

Kaito had followed Shuichi’s advice and not brought it up again. He’d arrived at Shuichi’s apartment the next morning with a smile, hand extended. But it was a difficult smile, and his hand shook slightly. They had exchanged flowing but awkward conversation and Shuichi never quite felt as comfortable around Kaito as used to. He couldn’t tell him everything and anything in complete confidence anymore.

It was completely Shuichi’s fault and he knew it. It was him creating the tension, it was Shuichi who couldn’t forget what Kaito had said and refused to let it go. It was obvious that Kaito just wanted things to go back to the way they were, he was agitated and generally just slightly melancholy. However, it was also plain how clipped Shuichi was with Kaito. He was terse when answering personal questions and ignored him if he was silently trying to get his attention to see if he was okay, mainly because he wasn’t.

Maki had quickly caught on, but had almost certainly asked Kaito about it and gotten a straight answer because she hadn’t bothered Shuichi regarding it beyond suspicious and irritated looks.

The three of them hadn’t stopped spending time together though. While the atmosphere was definitely off, Kaito and Maki still worried about Shuichi and made sure he wasn’t harassed by the media. They made a conscious effort to include him in conversation and still earnestly wanted to be in his company.

Shuichi on the other hand just wanted to be alone most of the time. He appreciated the effort they were going to but if it were up to him he’d be alone gathering his own thoughts, because what Kaito had suggested had thrown Shuichi for a loop.

Could he really be ‘over’ Kaede?

Shuichi had loved Kaede with all of his heart. When he looked at her she seemed to glow with the light of heaven, nature flourished under her presence and angels wept when she sat behind a piano. She was complete perfection in his eyes, and he’d known he’d loved her that way for years.

And then, so suddenly, she was gone.

It was like Shuichi had been in a dark tunnel his whole life. As a child, he had a flashlight that helped him to see through the fog and get on happily, but when he had moved, leaving Kaito behind, it slowly lost power and blinked out. He was plunged into the gloom, his eyes slowly adjusting, letting him move on slowly.

But the light had come back when he’d met Kaede. She wasn’t like Kaito, she had never seemed as sturdy or robust as flashlight, she was more like a beautiful grand candelabra with a hundred arms and a hundred candles, lit one by one, burning bright enough to light up Shuichi’s entire life. Shuichi had adored her, and knew that he needed her, but he had seen her as so impossibly beautiful and bright, that he was afraid to get any closer than where it was leading him in fear of being burnt. And when he had finally worked up the courage to embrace the light, the wind had instantly doused all of the flames. They had gone out so suddenly that his eyes couldn’t readjust. There was only pitch blackness, nothing. The tunnel wasn’t completely lightless, Shuichi was just blind.

After a lot of effort and emotional labour though, he had reunited with the steady light of his old friend, and even gained another. And that was where he had been for the last three years.

However, that was where what Kaito had said had startled him.

The torch continued to glow steadily, never changing, always there, but the tunnel had been getting brighter. Shuichi had just assumed that his eyes were finally adjusting, and that time was healing his wounds, but no. It wasn’t his eyes, it was the tunnel itself. It was crumbling around him, letting in the sunlight. And now that he had realised that, he had one question left:

Why?

And it seemed that Kaito had found the answer before him.

_Ouma_.

The problem was that Shuichi, stubborn and broken as he was when it came to this, didn’t _want_ the tunnel to go. It reminded him of the candelabra and he didn’t want to lose that memory.

And so, he was bitter and distant from everyone, including Ouma, who, needless to say, didn’t like it one bit.

“Saihara-chan are you ignoring me?” he asked Shuichi over lunch in the secluded courtyard behind the chemistry department. “Am I really that boring to you?”

Shuichi stared at him blankly for a moment before shaking himself out of his thoughts and quietly responding. “What? No… no it’s… it’s nothing.” He looked off to the side, not really in the mood to get all personal with the shorter young man.

Ouma pouted and kicked his feet under the picnic table. Shuichi wished that he’d just grow up for moment. “Is Saihara-chan upset? Did I do something wrong?” he asked innocently, curling his hands over Shuichi’s edge of the table, laying his arms across its width. “You know, Saihara-chan, it’s _spring_. Now is a time to be happy and look at flowers and crap. You should be more cheerful.”

Not really knowing what to say, not wanting to snap at Ouma and be in the same place as he was with Kaito, he just stared at him irately. He didn’t realise then that it was a bit too late to be wanting of that and that he was tumbling deeper down that rabbit hole with every second.

Ouma noticed the subconscious contempt in Shuichi’s gaze and sat up, raising an eyebrow. “I have done something, haven’t I?”

“No, really, just drop it. It’s none of your business,” Shuichi said, words a lot sharper than he’d expected.

He huffed and leant his chin on his hand.

The other furrowed his brow in frustration. “You can tell me if something’s up, you know?” Shuichi didn’t respond. “I mean it. I mean of course you don’t _have_ to, but you’d probably feel better if you did.”

They sat in silence, Ouma waiting impatiently to see if Shuichi would say anything. When he didn’t say anything, Ouma frowned gravely, very irritated. He didn’t speak though, instead he decided to continue eating his lunch.

Shuichi knew what he was doing, he knew he was making it worse, but he wasn’t about tell Ouma he was freaking out, especially as he was too involved.

“Harukawa-san told me that you fell out with Momota. Is that what this is about?” Ouma’s tone was flat. He wasn’t used to Shuichi treating him this way and, as a confrontational person, he wasn’t afraid to act abrasive in retaliation.

“Why on earth was Maki talking to _you_?”

Ouma raised an eyebrow and crossed his thin arms. “She approached me because she’s worried about you.” He leant forward, elbows resting on the table. “And I would think _that_ in itself would show you just how desperate they are. I was her last resort and unfortunately, it would seem I won’t be of any use either, because you’re being a stubborn child.”

“Just keep your nose out of matters that don’t concern you,” Shuichi bit back, sneering.

It was obvious that Shuichi had made a mistake instantly. Unfortunately, Ouma had hit the nail on the head when he called Shuichi stubborn, because he didn’t take it back.

Ouma had gone from irritated to angry and hurt. He narrowed his eyes as he stared at Shuichi. “What?”

“Oh, come on,” Shuichi could feel himself lose control of his words; everything that had been building up since he realised his walls were breaking down was falling from his mouth. “I know next to _nothing_ about you. Where you were born, where you work, the damn courses you take at the university. I don’t even know where the hell you even _live_. I think I’ve heard you talk about people you know who aren’t me or people I know, a total of about five times. So don’t go acting like it’s fine for you to get involved in shit like this,” he growled, staring mutinously into Ouma’s eyes.

“You know _all_ of this about me and more, but whenever you tell me anything it’s just lies and deception and jokes and it’s gotten to point where I don’t even know if I actually know who the fuck you are because the two people I really trust keep telling how terrible of a person you were. And I keep rejecting them, for someone who refuses to tell me pretty much anything about themselves. So excuse me if I don’t trust you to interfere in crap you just wouldn’t understand.”

“You have no clue, do you?”

It had been a long time since Shuichi had seen it, but now that he was, he felt ice-cold fear trickle down his spine again. Ouma had that threatening smirk plastered on his face, a mask shrouding whatever Ouma was really feeling in pitch black, but his white-hot anger was near blinding and positively terrifying.

Shuichi finally completely understood where Kaito and Maki’s opinion of him came from.

“You need to grow up and get your head out of your ass, Saihara,” he spat, rising to his feet. “Sometimes it’s worth looking at what you do have instead of what you don’t. _That_ crap aside; you need to stop being a self-righteous fool and realise how goddamn lucky you are there are people in your life who give two shits about you. We can _all_ tell that something to do with your dead girlfriend has you in some sort of tizzy and all we want to do is help. But no, you want to wallow in your own fucking self-pity and bring everyone who cares about you down too.

“You should know that the last thing I’ve ever wanted to do is hurt or offend you Saihara, but you need to get over the fact that your friend is _dead_ and realise that there is a world out here that needs to be lived in or you’re going to lose everything before you realise you ever had it in the first place.” He snatched his stuff up, expression contorted into unreadable anger. “Take it from someone with experience.” And he left Shuichi sat there, frightened, ashamed and confused.

From then, a week passed and Shuichi still hadn’t so much as heard from Ouma.

He spent that week alone.

He avoided Kaito and Maki, called into work and said he wouldn’t be going in for a while. He only left for lectures, not that he could pay any attention.

He didn’t cry or anything. He just sat about his apartment and lay in bed, ‘wallowing in his own fucking self-pity’. Again, Ouma was right, that was all he wanted to do.

Once the week passed though, Kaito had had enough and forced his way into Shuichi’s apartment with the spare key one evening to find him curled up on the sofa, empty packets of food surrounding him.

Kaito had started to fret about, frantically cleaning the place and getting Shuichi into clean clothes and trying to make him some food, going on and on about how worried he was, etcetera.

Shuichi didn’t say much, he just went with it, getting dressed when Kaito told him to, eating what was put in front of him and watching idly as he ran around and made the apartment marginally cleaner.

“Kaito?” he called out after half an hour of that. His voice was hoarse as he hadn’t used it for much of the week, but Kaito heard him.

“Yeah, bro?”

“You were right.”

“Huh?”

Shuichi sighed into the bowl of dry cereal Kaito had poured him after finding little else. “You were right… and I’m sorry.”

“Dude,” Kaito started, sitting down across the tiny kitchen table. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“I’m talking about when… when I was… and… and you said stuff and you were right and I just wouldn’t listen-”

“What stuff?”

“About me, and Kaede… and Ouma.”

Kaito was quiet for a moment before continuing cautiously. “Shuichi, you said we shouldn’t-”

“No, Kaito. It’s something I need to talk about and I ignored you and now…” he trailed off, staring at the table blankly. “I have… I think I’ve…”

“Back up a second,” Kaito said gently, rather lost and confused. “What on earth was I _right_ about?”

Shuichi looked up at his friend forlornly. “That…” He didn’t know how to phrase it, so he took a deep breath and just said it. “I think I’m in love with Ouma.”

They didn’t say anything else for a while. That was until Shuichi gathered the courage to admit to his mistake. “And since you were right… and I didn’t think I wanted to… well, I think I may have driven him away.” His voice hitched as he harshly ran his hands through his dirty hair.

Kaito’s eyes bored into him, they were sad and full of pity. “Shuichi…”

“I don’t know what to do, Kaito.” He swallowed thickly, breath shaky. “I just…”

“It’ll be okay… we’ll do something.  I don’t know what yet but… something. Okay?”

Shuichi nodded. “Thanks. I… I’m sorry.”

“No, man it’s fine. Really. Although, it’s late; you should go to bed. I’ll lock up for you okay?”

Shuichi nodded again and stood up, leaving the half-empty bowl on the table and crawling into bed again, listening to Kaito as he moved about, cleaning up some more before turning out the lights and leaving, the front door clicking shut quietly behind him.

It seemed though, that Shuichi had gotten what he wanted. The tunnel had been repaired, and Shuichi was free to sit alone in the dark for the rest of his eternity. Shuichi had had a taste of the sun, though, and he wanted more, but he’d successfully sealed it off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, the train-wreck has happened. Sorry if you were hoping this sort of thing wouldn't happen, it's not like I enjoy putting the characters through emotional pain. (Don't worry tho, there's still six chapters left)  
> Speaking of, there will be two uploaded again tomorrow because they're important but kind of dull. I thought maybe I could make up for the quality with quantity. Although that is no motto to live by (all my teachers keep reminding me of that because essays are stupid and difficult).  
> Lastly, that large random metaphor. I'm super unhappy about it. See, while I feel it's ridiculously out of place, I also think it's ridiculously accurate to Shuichi's situation. If this was professional I would probably take it out, but give me your opinion if you want. All criticism is valid as you know (as long as it isn't mindless hate)  
> Regardless I hope you continue to enjoy the story!


	15. Chapter 15

A month passed, and Shuichi still hadn’t seen Ouma since the argument.

It filled him with grief and regret and during that time, he wouldn’t exactly call what he was doing living. Existing, yes, as a sack of chemical reactions consuming the fruits of the earth uselessly, but not living.

Kaito had stuck about though, their rocky patch long gone and all forgiven. Shuichi was sure he would have devolved into some useless mess without his friend there making sure he was eating and getting to where he needed to be. Kaito had taken the initiative quite quickly in notifying Isoshi of Shuichi’s state, leaving out the details, and from there Kaminara had gotten in touch and assured Shuichi it was alright to take as much time as he needed.

Shuichi had asked him to notify him if anything important arose, and expressed his consent at them freezing his wages too. Kaito had a bit of a problem with the latter, worried as to how Shuichi would make rent and so on, but Shuichi said he was fine. He had a lot saved up, and that wasn’t the only thing he had.

Early one Thursday morning, Shuichi boarded a train on his own and travelled to the other side of the country. It took all morning but by one in the afternoon he was cautiously shuffling into a respectable jeweller. He had made an appointment the previous week when he’d found enough spare effort between moping about and being dragged around by Kaito, and was quickly sat down with a specialist.

He pulled out the pale pink stone on a simple metal chain. The appraiser took it and they chatted about this and that, Shuichi had prepared a story beforehand about it being given to him by his grandmother, which frankly wouldn’t be such a stretch, his whole family aside from Isoshi was very well off, not that he wanted anything to do with them.

Half an hour later he had discovered what exactly he had been left by that cat burglar. At first the appraiser, a man probably in his late early fifties, had thought that he might have a spinel. He had said that the pink variety were rare and highly sort after. Shuichi had done a little research since receiving it, but he hadn’t really been able to tell; he was a detective not a gemmologist. So, this in itself had gotten his hopes up.

However, as the appraisal continued the man seemed to grow more doubtful as to whether that was really what Shuichi had. He was saying about how the crystal habit was off and eventually settled that it probably wasn’t that, and began searching for what else it could be.

Then, after a little longer, he nodded, sat the gem down on the desk and let out a long whistle. “Well isn’t your grandmother a generous one?”

Shuichi would have laughed at the idea of his grandmother being anything but insufferable. “How so?”

“I’m quite sure that you have a three carat taaffeite there.”

This meant absolutely nothing to Shuichi, and the gemmologist seemed to notice it because he laughed lightly and leant back in his chair. “Taaffeite is one of the rarest gemstones in the world. A single carat can go for upwards of two hundred thousand yen, and this is of a good quality. You may even get more selling it to a private collector. That is if you were planning to sell it at all.”

Shuichi was still for a moment. “O-oh, yes, I am. I have no use for these things and… err, frankly, I couldn’t care less if my grandmother wanted it back. Besides, I’m broke.” Shuichi shrugged and picked up the necklace, mind whizzing round and round.

In his hands, he held one of the rarest minerals on earth, and he had it because an infamous cat burglar had just offhandedly decided to give it to him over a year ago. He should have known better, but he felt rather flattered. The criminal in the two subsequent meetings had not only made it apparent that he left the priceless gem on purpose, but he had been overtly _flirting_ with him. Shuichi hadn’t quite registered it at the time but, looking back at it, it was obvious. He couldn’t comprehend why the leader of Dice of all people had thought Shuichi interesting enough to leave priceless gifts forhim, but still, Shuichi was most definitely flattered.

But the flattery quickly transformed into desolation. The criminal distinctly reminded him of Ouma. Shuichi may have even suspected him of being said criminal at one point, but had figured that was highly unlikely. Besides, he couldn’t really remember what the thief looked like. He’d been wearing a mask after all, and it was dark all three times. Nevertheless, these thoughts only served to drop Shuichi from the mild pleasantness of his newfound fortune, back into his sorrow.

He refused to let it show though and continued speaking with the appraiser. “I was wondering how I might go about that though? Selling it.”

He was given a run-down of the few options he had and eventually made a deal with the jeweller for help selling it to a private collector, in exchange for a small percentage, and then he left, his financial troubles no longer weighing on him.

It was on the long train ride back though, that he received the phone call.

“Saihara-san? It’s Kaminara; you said to call should anything important happen. The Dice case has reopened, the art gallery along the river was robbed last night. The cameras didn’t catch much more than a silhouette and shadows, but we’re pretty sure it’s their leader again.”

Shuichi couldn’t believe his ears. It had to be some sort of ludicrous coincidence.

“R-right.” Shuichi stammered, coming to grips with what he had just been told. A foreign but distinct sense of determination began to rise in Shuichi. He nodded, finding his metaphorical footing. “I won’t be back in Kenkita for…” he looked at the digital clock blaring red from above the train carriage door, “…another two and a half hours. But I’ll be with you as soon as possible.”

Kaminara hummed across the line, apparently hurrying with something. “Good, my lad. We’ll see you soon,” and he hung up.

Shuichi held his phone tight in his lap, looking out the window at the sunny hills rolling beside the railway tracks. He hadn’t felt this sense of conviction in a while. It was refreshing, he supposed, but the one thing he was really sure of was that no matter what, he was going to meet Dice’s leader again. He _had_ to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I remember this chapter being needlessly annoying to write. I had to do a bunch of research on expensive gemstones for the first chapter and the act of getting them appraised and selling them off for this one. I still have no idea as to whether taaffeite can get to three carats, but it's a plot device for a fanfiction so frankly I feel like I can let it slide just this once, it works better this way regardless. But taaffeite is SUPER rare and expensive and does get confused for spinels so I like to think I did some decent research (useless and ultimately unnecessary research for the rest of the story but whatever)  
> Chapter 16 will be up later today, evening in Britain so I'd guess midday America? Doesn't matter.  
> Thanks for reading.


	16. Chapter 16

The sun was low in the sky when Shuichi reached the police station. He was panting gently as he suddenly burst through the front doors. The middle-aged lady sat at the front desk jumped violently in her seat and looked at Shuichi bewildered before hurriedly greeting him, remarking it had been a long while.

Shuichi, too polite to simply dismiss her, agreed that yes, he had been gone a while, and then asked after his boss who, she had told him, was in his office.

Kaminara looked rather surprised when Shuichi strode into his office with conviction, placing his jacket roughly on the back of a chair which he promptly sat down in, addressing his boss politely before immediately getting down to business. Kaminara grinned broadly.

Despite being mildly confused by his boss’ behaviour, Shuichi disregarded it and listened intently as he was debriefed on the recent case: witnesses, what had been stolen, evidence left around the building. He’d left with a short list of names and logs of interviews with them as well as permission to go check around the now shut gallery. However, as he was walking out the door, Kaminara had called him back.

“Saihara-san!” Shuichi had turned around, eyebrows raised in curiosity. Kaminara smiled at him warmly. “I’m glad to see the skip back in your step.”

Shuichi had blushed faintly in embarrassment before nodding curtly, muttering a thank you and turning on his heel.

The gallery, unsurprisingly, had little to offer besides the empty picture frame hung in the middle of one of the largest halls.

One of the workers had showed him in and explained the security measures put in place in the room. It was certainly nothing to scoff at: cameras, laser sensors, security guards, and even a glass case around the picture stolen, which appeared to have taken no damage, raising the question of how the thief had removed the artwork in the first place.

It opened after a security program had been cleared, the worker had showed him how that worked, the case silently swinging off from the wall. Shuichi had concluded that the only way the painting could have been stolen was by taking down all security measures, so the perpetrator couldn’t possibly be working alone.

But if it was Dice’s leader, then why had he jumped into Shuichi’s window all alone, and made his get away from the naval museum the night he’d held Shuichi at gunpoint alone, and entered his parents’ house alone? Then again, that was assuming that that had in fact been the leader of Dice in those instances.

Shuichi still had doubts about the identity of his mystery criminal. He had assumed that was who it was because both the jewellery store on Kirsche and the museum had been robbed the same nights Shuichi had had his little run-ins with the guy. Still, they were only assumptions. And this seemed to be evidence against it. The leader of Dice would have getaway vans and lackeys to do the hard work for him. They wouldn’t be climbing through the windows of broke students, would they?

The gallery worker had offered to show him their copy of the security tapes, though they didn’t show much. The cameras focused on the hall had the footage frozen, and only a few cameras had picked up any signs of disturbance aside from the security guards stood in the main entrance. In one part of the footage, taken from a camera that must have been overlooked by the burglars, you could see the silhouette of a slight figure, short and definitely what any normal person would consider feminine, just as Kaminara had told him. Shuichi’s mind, though, was immediately drawn to his own memory of the criminal, similar in stature and size. Though, again, he was also reminded of Ouma.

He banished that thought from his head quickly and did his best to concentrate on the case.

After thanking the employee, Shuichi had gone to speak to the witnesses, the security guards and a young man who had been walking home when he saw a person who fit the silhouette’s description running down a nearby alleyway.

That hadn’t brought much to light though.

The security guards weren’t much help, as they had picked up less than the cameras. Although Shuichi concluded that the criminal must have been meticulous to not alert two men down the hall. The other witness had also stated that he hadn’t interacted with the thief at all multiple times after Shuichi had asked again and again, due to what had happened to himself. He had also said that he heard no more than footsteps, no screech of wheels or voices.

This suggested to Shuichi that the thief worked on foot, and this made his own encounters seem much more plausible, but the crime in itself less so.

And this was all Shuichi was able to conclude. He worked and worked for the next three weeks, but nothing.

Initially, Kaito had been thrilled when Shuichi had shown a new lease for life, always busy and motivated. But he always spoke about the case, his leads which led to dead ends, his digging up of the previous cases, his frustration at all of it going nowhere and little else. All he was ever concerned with was the case, where the criminal could be, what they were doing, where they would go next. He passed on hanging out in favour of pulling his hair out over Dice.

Now, Kaito was concerned for a different reason: Shuichi was now facing an unhealthy obsession.

Shuichi had been offended when he voiced this worry to him and told them that he and Maki should just be pleased he wasn’t lifeless anymore. He’d quickly apologised for being rude but stood by his words. He was glad that he’d found a reason to get up in the morning besides Kaito rousing him and an obligation to attend classes. But deep down he knew that yes, he was obsessed. He also knew why.

As the three weeks passed and very little turned up again, Shuichi began, rather backwardly, hoping for another robbery, or even a tip off like with the bank. He was losing hope when it had slapped him across the face again.

Looking online, he’d found out about an old, abandoned apartment building right on the outskirts of town, close to where he’d been led to at gunpoint. He read weird stories from people who lived in the area about the suspicious, shady stuff that happened around the building, including boxes of what looked like stolen artefacts turning up in the back alleys and then disappearing.

It could have been something completely unrelated, but Shuichi was desperate. So, one night, he left his apartment, locked the door, placed the key in his mailbox, and went to search out the old building.

In the pitch black, the building looked very ominous. Paint was peeling off of the brickwork and the wind caused a fire escape down the side of the building to whine and squeak. The windows were all dark and the glass was dull and cloudy. It gave a front of impenetrability, an opaque wall behind which definitely hid _something_. And Shuichi wanted to know exactly what that something was.

He entered through a back entrance, using a lock picker he’d nicked from Kaito, who owned it for reasons unknown to Shuichi.

But he’d not spent two minutes in the building before he was brutally knocked unconscious.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is again a rather superfluous but important one, but here it is anyways.  
> I hope you look forward to the next chapter!


	17. Chapter 17

 Shuichi woke up with a severe headache.

He blinked wearily and groaned. Wherever he was, it was dark, and it reeked. He tried to adjust to the light, but he couldn’t think for the thumping in his head. He went to rub his eyes, but his hand was stuck behind his back, he couldn’t move it. His neck felt sore as he picked up his head, trying to move anything else, but he couldn’t. Then he realised that he had been sleeping sat up in a hard, wooden chair.

Shuichi became very alert, very quickly. His eyes snapped open, but he saw nothing. He had a black, fetid cloth wrapped over his face. He pulled at his arms, but they were tied tight behind his back, attached to the back of the chair, which he now could feel digging into his shoulder blades. His ankles were tied to the legs of the chair too.

He started to panic.

He’d gotten too curious. He should have at least told someone what he was doing. Maybe just told his boss, and the professionals could have dealt with it.

But no. Shuichi had made it personal. And now he was tied up, blindfolded, and he had no clue where he was.

He heard voices and stilled. A door opened, and they began speaking to each other, saying something about him being awake.

Shuichi became very nervous.

A hand roughly grabbed his hair and pulled his head back. He cried out in pain, hissing through his teeth. Was that really necessary? He was already tied up.

One of them spat in his face. “Who are you with?”

With? He wasn’t _with_ anybody in pretty much any sense of the word. Unless that meant the police. He guessed he was with the police, but no one knew where he was. Shuichi didn’t really know how he was supposed to answer. “No one?” Suddenly, he was kicked hard in the stomach. He yelped, gasping for breath. “I’m… I’m alone! Honest to god!”

They obviously didn’t believe him as they tugged on his hair again.

“Then what the fuck are you doing snooping around?”

“I’m just… private, my uncle and me… private investigators.”

The two men seemed to be having a silent conversation. They let go of his hair, Shuichi rolled his neck, groaning.

“You’re gonna tell us what the police knows.”

“I-I’m not with the police!”

He felt something hard tap dangerously against his shin. A sweat broke out across his forehead. Were they about to break his legs?!

“You can’t fuckin’ _lie_ to us, detective prince,” they spat. “Your face was _all_ over the media just a couple of months ago. You’re with the police.”

“Then why the hell did you even ask?!” Shuichi exclaimed, panic rising higher.

He had barely registered the sound of swishing before the air was knocked from his lungs by something that felt like a wooden bat crashing into his stomach. He would have yelled out, but a quiet huff of air whistled through his throat.

“Drop the sass. Now tell us, what does the police know?”

“N-nothing,” Shuichi stammered, honestly. “They… they know so little they keep closing and re… reopening the case. I was the only one who knew anything. I never told them anything!”

“Don’t lie to us.” They refused to believe him. “What do the cops know?”

“I told you! They still think your boss is a girl! They think you’re based in Kenkita, that you guys were behind the burglaries and that’s where it ends!”

“Then how did _you_ find us?”

“Chance. It was _luck_.”

Shuichi was weak, and he knew that. He answered most of their questions without hesitation, but they never seemed to believe him. The interrogation continued for a long time before they seemed to have had enough.

One of them came so close that Shuichi could almost choke on the tobacco on their breath. “This is just a little something to make you… a little more _compliant_ next time.”

A loud crack resounded in Shuichi’s ears as a searing paint shot up his left leg. His eyes widened, and he screamed, vision spotting white and in unimaginable pain. He couldn’t think for the agony. He began to tear up and breathe heavily and repeatedly, trying to ride out the pain. His arms struggled against their bonds, rope burning against his wrists.

The men were speaking to each other, discussing something. Shuichi heard the sloshing of a liquid in a bottle as the pain started to subside to a dull, unignorable throbbing. He didn’t dare move it though.

However, before he knew what else was happening, a damp cloth had been pressed to his mouth and he was unconscious in seconds.

He woke up however much later feeling groggy, hungry and with pain shooting up and down his leg. Shuichi still couldn’t see, but his mouth felt dry and the aftertaste of chemicals stung his tongue. His arms ached, his legs definitely ached, his stomach grumbled loudly, and his head was still thumping against his skull.

He couldn’t hear anything. Whoever was questioning him before had left. He felt the tears come back.

Shuichi had no idea how long he was sat there, crying all alone; but it was almost certainly hours later when what he assumed was the only door opened and quietly shut again.

“Hungry?” It was a woman. She sounded mature, and when she walked her footsteps sounded distinctly like high heels.

Shuichi nodded, his stomach screeching its agreement.

“Drink,” she ordered. A straw pressed against Shuichi’s lips and he retracted his head cautiously. “This is all you will get. If you don’t want to starve then drink.” He did as he was instructed. The pureed food was rather disgusting, but Shuichi couldn’t complain, it was like heaven to his starved taste buds.

“Good,” the woman said when he’d finished it. Shuichi heard her walk back towards the way she entered.

“Are you with Dice?” he blurted out. He had been telling the men what he knew about them before, but he had never known if they were really with the organisation.

She paused and tense silence hung in the air. She chuckled delicately and walked back towards Shuichi. “What makes you think that?” she purred dangerously. Suddenly, Shuichi didn’t want to say.

He gulped. “It’s just… otherwise this is all for naught. I mean I’ve been looking for them for a long time now. But… um… no one knows I’m here so… I’d just like to know if I got that far.”

She laughed melodically again. A manicured hand rested on his shoulder and long sweet-smelling hair brushed against his face and chest. “Well then, I suppose you reached your dream. Anything else?”

Shuichi’s breath hitched. She was Dice. This _was_ Dice. He was being _held captive_ by Dice. He had made it. His hard work had paid off; only for him to be disqualified at the last hurdle.

“You don’t look very happy. I thought your dreams had come true?” she crooned, running her hand over his shoulder. Shuichi was becoming increasingly uncomfortable.

“Um… n-no… that wasn’t quite…”

He was interrupted though, as a loud commotion came from somewhere else in the building, or so Shuichi assumed. People were shouting, and someone was thundering around, their footsteps noisy and purposeful. The sound was definitely getting close though.

The woman straightened up, hand still on Shuichi’s shoulder. Then the door burst open viciously, slamming against a wall, voices echoing about the room, all panicked.

“Boss you need to calm down!”

“What if someone had seen you?”

“Just leave this to someone else.”

“Shut _up_!” a final voice commanded powerfully. It instantly silenced all the others.

Shuichi felt the hand on his shoulder tighten painfully. He gritted his teeth, his shoulder tensing in reaction. He felt very insecure, not being able to see anything.

A heavy, oppressive silence fell over the room and Shuichi had _no_ idea what to do, so he sat there silently, trying to ignore the throbbing still coming from his leg.

“Saihara?”

Shuichi looked up suddenly. “Y-yeah?”

“Oh god,” the woman stood next to him ripped her hand from his shoulder and stumbled back. He heard the other people gasp at the same time and the air became charged with fear. If there was anything Shuichi was sure about, it was that everyone was terrified of the person who had called out to him.

Then hurried footsteps ran at him. The woman backed further away as whoever it was knelt down in front of Shuichi and grasped his face gently in both hands. “Hey, hey are you okay? Saihara-chan are you alright?”

The voice was gentle and worried. Such tenderness hit Shuichi like an emotional wall.

It was Ouma.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like I put Shuichi through some tough shit in this... Ah well.  
> I have to say that I thought the pacing in this chapter was kind of all over the place. It goes a bit too fast at parts and I feel like the time leaps are a bit off and things get interrupted too suddenly.   
> Anyway, thanks for reading regardless!


	18. Chapter 18

Shuichi couldn’t fully comprehend it. He knew Ouma’s voice so well, it was undeniably Ouma, but he just couldn’t quite believe that it was _really_ was him; that he was _really_ there.

He started to choke on convulsive sobs, shaking his head and proceeding to break down. He was crying so hard that he saturated the blindfold, tears staining his cheeks and trickling down his neck.

Ouma shushed him gently, stroking his hair. Shuichi continued to weep, leaning into the touch, savouring the kindness, petrified that it might go away again.

“You’re going to be okay now, alright? It’s over now. I’m going to take the blindfold off now, okay?” Ouma crooned gently.

Shuichi nodded and gulped hard, taking deep, shaky breaths as the other’s slender fingers worked at the knot of cloth behind his head, loosening it until it fell around his neck.

The first thing he saw was Ouma’s face, staring at him with concern, gnawing his lip with worry.

Shuichi just cried harder.

“Hey, shush, it’s okay, Saihara-chan. You don’t need to worry anymore. Calm down.” Ouma continued to card his fingers through Shuichi’s hair comfortingly.

Sniffling hard, Shuichi nodded, doing his best to stifle the crying. He took deep, shuddering breaths until the tears and involuntary whimpering subsided. He would feel embarrassed for showing such a pathetic and messy side of himself to Ouma, but he was so relieved and happy to see him that he couldn’t care less. The only thing that he could really focus on was Ouma. Ouma was knelt in front of him. He was back. He was there. _He had Ouma back_.

Shuichi hiccoughed, causing Ouma to chuckle fondly, hand still brushing through his dirty hair. Again, he couldn’t find it in himself to care, especially about something as trivial as his hygiene. Not when Ouma was there, with him.

But then his hand pulled away.

Shuichi panicked, and it obviously showed on his face because Ouma reacted quite violently to it.

“No, no, I’m not going anywhere, it’s alright,” he consoled quickly, cupping Shuichi’s cheek in his hand before trailing it down to his shoulder. “I’m going to untie you now. I won’t go anywhere. I swear.”

Shuichi nodded and watched him rise to his feet to move behind him. He felt the ropes slackening around his wrists a few moments later. Once the ties fell to the floor with a quiet thump, Shuichi let his arms hang by his sides, muscles screaming after releasing the tension. He swung them a little as he watched Ouma walk back around the chair and kneel in front of him again, starting on the ropes around his ankles.

Shuichi suddenly yelped loudly in pain, as agony returned to his leg.

Ouma jolted back, looking up at Shuichi, gaze laced with concern. “They didn’t…?”

Shuichi bit down hard on his bottom lip until the stinging faded again. “Please… d-don’t touch it. It’s broken. At least… I think. There was a crack and…” Shuichi’s words died on his tongue at the dark look gracing Ouma’s face. “Err…”

“I’m sorry but this may hurt.” His voice was still soothing, but it had an edge to it which Shuichi could recognise as potent anger, one he never wanted to cause again. Especially considering the consequences of last time.

Shuichi bit back any reaction to the returned pain, but it was gone soon after and both his legs were free. Ouma went to stand up again, leaning on Shuichi’s right knee to help himself to his feet. Before he could withdraw it though Shuichi took hold of his hand, squeezing it tightly, afraid he’d disappear if he let go.

They stared at each other for a moment, Ouma seemingly surprised at Shuichi’s actions. “Is something wrong?”

Without thinking, Shuichi tugged hard on Ouma’s arm, dragging him down to his level and tightly wrapping his arms around Ouma’s small frame, hanging on for dear life. He buried his face in Ouma’s shoulder and held him there, finally letting it really hit him, settle into his reality, that Ouma was with him again.

Shuichi’s senses were overwhelmed with just Ouma. The way his flesh gave under Shuichi’s desperate embrace, the faint sweetness that surrounded him, the slight tickle as the ends of his hair brushed Shuichi’s temple. When Ouma tenderly returned the hug, Shuichi thought he could probably die happy in that moment.

“I’m so sorry,” he mumbled into Ouma’s shoulder so that only the other could hear. “I’m so, so sorry.”

Ouma’s hand ran up and down his back comfortingly. “Why are you apologising?” he asked, genuinely confused. “I left _you_ , why aren’t you mad?”

Shuichi shook his head, squeezing Ouma tighter. “Y-you were… you were right. I shouldn’t have… I was so…”

“Shush, stop. I don’t care anymore. It’s okay,” he soothingly whispered into Shuichi’s ear when his voice started to break again. “Don’t apologise. Really, I shouldn’t have said that stuff either. You shouldn’t worry about it. Water under the bridge,” he giggled softly.

Reluctantly, Shuichi let Ouma go, avoiding the other’s gaze, looking down into his own lap as he straightened up.

“Coco,” Ouma suddenly bit out, turning around. “Go get Buggs.”

“Wha-, err… Why sir?” the woman, who was still stood off to the side, asked, her voice so unsteady she sounded like a completely different person.

Ouma tutted, short on patience. “ _Someone_ broke Saihara-chan’s leg. _I_ can’t carry him, and unless you believe that _you_ could…”

“No. Of course boss, I’ll… I’ll go,” she slipped around him, and Shuichi looked up in time to see the young woman’s silky brown hair disappear behind the door frame.

“And surely _you_ three have more important things to do?”

The three men stood in the doorway, who were apparently the other voices Shuichi had heard accompany Ouma into the room, suddenly jumped and rushed out.

It was just them left, Shuichi unable to move, Ouma stood just right of him, seemingly agitated. He kept twitching his fingers, his feet shuffled a little.

“Are you okay?” Shuichi asked, looking up at the shorter boy.

Ouma looked down at Shuichi, his gaze lingering on his leg. Shuichi looked down at it too. The centre of it bent slightly, only a little, which was surprising considering that it had been smashed with a baseball bat.

Ouma muttered, so quietly venomous that Shuichi almost missed it. “I told them. I can’t believe I told them _not_ to.”

“Told them not to what?”

Obviously Ouma hadn’t expected Shuichi to hear that, as he jumped a little, and met his eyes. “Nothing, nothing. Don’t worry about it.”

“Don’t… I don’t want you to hurt anyone because of me,” he stated, resolutely. “I don’t care about it. It was _my_ fault for getting too nosy, too careless, for not telling anyone…”

“ _Stop_ that,” Ouma interrupted, forcefully. “Stop berating yourself. I don’t care how many times you try to say it’s not, this is _my_ fault,” he insisted, heatedly. “I shouldn’t have left when I did. I shouldn’t have left you alone or gotten angry at you, especially when you felt you couldn’t trust the person you cared the most about…” He sighed and came closer to Shuichi, playing with his hair again. “It was cruel but… I was just so frustrated and then… but this wasn’t supposed to happen.”

Shuichi shook his head in response, but Ouma retracted his hand thinking he was shaking him off. Shuichi snatched it back. “It doesn’t matter. You’re here _now_ and… and I just… Don’t go again… _please_. I can’t… I can’t be without you again.” He squeezed the other boy’s fingers together, trying to memorise the feeling of his flesh beneath his own.

Ouma giggled, just like he used to, making Shuichi’s heart ache, yearning for everything to just be like it was. “You know, Saihara-chan,” Ouma said, voice hushed and intimate, bending down to look directly into Shuichi’s face. “You can’t say things like that. You’re gonna make me think you’ve fallen in love with me.” His expression was cat like, just like it was whenever he teased someone, like it was on the many, many occasions he had teased Shuichi. “But more worryingly,” he continued, almost sadly, “you’re going to end up making _me_ fall for _you._ ” He punctuated the last word by playfully poking the tip of Shuichi’s nose.

Completely at a loss for words, Shuichi stared at Ouma, mouth slightly agape.

Was he trying to insinuate something? He was always trying to insinuate something, but was he trying to say what Shuichi thought he was trying to say? Or was that just wishful thinking? Shuichi was convinced it couldn’t be anything _but_ wishful thinking, but he couldn’t help but _hope_ as he stared into the other’s big, curious eyes.

He didn’t get a chance to say anything though, as they then both heard more footsteps. Moments later two people walked through the door, and Ouma jerked back, his hand slipping through Shuichi’s fingers.

It was the woman from earlier, light brown hair long and glossy, falling to her waist, physique thin and very, very pretty. But now she had someone with her, a tall man, slightly pudgy but very muscular with an apparently good-natured smile gracing his features. Shuichi also noticed that they were wearing matching attire, the same as Ouma.

“Good. Buggs, I need you to carry Saihara-chan. We’re taking him to the hospital. Some idiot thought it was a good idea to take a _bat_ to his leg,” he ordered sourly.

The man, Buggs, nodded nonchalantly and wondered over to them, hands in his pockets. “We just gonna stroll up there like this then, Boss?” he asked, indicating to the dark uniform-like, overtly suspicious clothes they were wearing. “I don’t wanna upset you or anything, but we do look rather shady. Don’t want you getting arrested after reuniting with your boyfriend now, do we?”

Shuichi’s face became very hot and his neck to the tips of his ears glowed a faint pink. Ouma, on the other hand, became angry.

“ _Don’t_ ,” was all he said. Shuichi couldn’t see his face, but his voice was low and ugly.

“There’s no need to get mad, Boss. I was just teasing you.” Whereas the young woman, Coco, Shuichi recalled, looked alarmed by Buggs’ behaviour, the man himself continued to hold his relaxed grin, patting Ouma, who was at least a foot shorter than him, on the head. The action was emotionless though, if anything it was dangerously condescending.

 “You do, I _suppose_ , have a point about the shady thing. We’ll just have to get changed,” he announced, clapping his hands together, suddenly light-hearted. “Coco, you’re not coming so you stay with Saihara-chan.” Ouma then turned around to face Shuichi. “I’ll be back lickety-split. I know Coco’s pretty shit company but just hang in there, okay?”

Shuichi nodded, not wanting to clue Ouma into the distinct unease the idea of his absence gave him. The two men left Shuichi and the young woman alone.

She seemed very nervous, even now that Ouma had left. She daren’t come nearer to Shuichi, almost as if she was worried that if she should, he would crack like fine China. He would have compared the anxiety she showed with that of a child awaiting a parent to discover they had knocked over a vase, but something told him whatever consequence on her mind was likely bordering on life threatening.

However much distance she put between them though, she was keeping a close eye on him. At least that’s what Shuichi had assumed for the first few minutes of silence, until he realised that she was actually inspecting him, assessing him.

“Did you… err,” Shuichi asked, uncertainly. “Did you want something?”

She looked at him with more focus, face showing a panicked bewilderment, as if it was outlandish to even think that he would pay any mind to her. “No,” she answered, quietly, shaking her head.

Shuichi could see by the way she looked down and started frantically pulling at the cuff of her black jumper, that she felt she had done something wrong. Shuichi didn’t like how timid she was now, having behaved so confident and dominant when she thought he was a no one, a random joe who’d been caught snooping around.

“Are you afraid of me?”

She snapped her head up, surprised. “Of course not, you pose no threat to me whatsoever.” Her tone was indignant.

“Then,” he continued, not sure whether or not he wanted to know the answer, “are you afraid of _Ouma_?”

She furrowed her brow for a moment in confusion before a look of dawning realisation spread over her face. Having reached some conclusion though, she huffed, affronted, but hastily straightened up and flipped her hair over her shoulder in agitation. “Not really. I’ve known him far too long for that… it’s not him, it’s more complicated than that.” She seemed to catch herself before saying anything further though, and she chuckled nervously to herself. “Forget I said that.”

Shuichi pondered that for a moment. If she wasn’t afraid of them… it must be someone else. And he was almost sure he’d be better off ignorant.

“How long have you known him then?” was what he went with instead.

“Oh.” She didn’t seem to be expecting that. She stared at him for a while, the appraising gaze from earlier returning. “I knew his parents,” she stated simply, having come to some sort of conclusion.

Shuichi nodded, understanding completely. “You must be close,” he said, almost dejectedly. He knew it was selfish and stupid, but the idea of anyone being closer to Ouma than he was aroused a baseless feeling of jealousy. 

“Oh no, not at all. He doesn’t get close to anyone. I may have known him for a very long time, but his relationships are too complex. Especially since Dice grew into what it is.” She paused, prompting Shuichi to meet her gaze. “Well… I guess you’re some sort of exception. I’ve never seen him so… affectionate. It’s sweet.”

Shuichi’s cheeks went pink. “Really?”

“ _Really_ really. He talks about you all the time.”

“Yeah?”

Her expression lit up. “Oh _yes_ , he doesn’t shut up about you. _It’s so amazing how my beloved Saihara-chan is so stupidly smart, I swear he nearly got Kara last week. Saihara-chan is so cute when he’s flustered, you should see him. Honestly, my darling Saihara-chan is so innocent and adorable I just want to keep him and protect him forever, I have no idea how he hasn’t gotten himself killed,_ ” she quoted in a comical imitation of Ouma’s voice. “That sort of thing. As I said, it’s cute.”

Before Shuichi could stutter out anything though, Ouma and the other guy, Buggs, showed up again, looking a lot more inconspicuous.

 “Looks like you two are getting on well,” Buggs commented loudly, tone cheerful. The relaxed air of conversation Shuichi and Coco had finally been able to establish vanished in an instant. 

She jumped, hands clasping behind her back, salute-like.

“I’d guess she’s been gossiping again, hasn’t she,” he asked calmly, smiling brightly at Shuichi. “Doesn’t know when to _shut up_ , our girl here, but I guess that means she likes you.”

She didn’t say anything in response, just looked down at her feet.

Shuichi frowned and just shrugged.

“ _Alright_ ,” Ouma sharply interrupted. He strode over, putting himself between Shuichi and the taller man. He briefly looked at Buggs, eyes narrowed, before turning to face Shuichi. “We need to get Saihara-chan to the hospital now,” he said, chipperly, smiling at Shuichi broadly. “I’m very sorry my darling,” he apologised, leaning down so his nose was just a few inches from Shuichi’s. “ _Buggs_ is the only one nearby who can carry you. Is that alright?”

He nodded. “Yeah, that’s fine.”

Acting on his orders, Buggs immediately moved to carefully lift him up, as Ouma reluctantly drew away, one arm under his knees and the other behind his shoulders. To Buggs, it seemed, Shuichi weighed little more than a very young child.

Ouma looked dissatisfied though. His brow was furrowed in discontentment and his arms were crossed over his chest. “Come on then,” he snapped, turning on his heel and quietly gliding out of the room.

On the way down to the street, neither he nor Buggs said anything. Shuichi looked around at the old abandoned building. The windows were painted over, similarly to the one in the room they had come to and the wallpaper was peeling, mould growing in the corners.

As Buggs stepped out into the bright early-summer sun, Shuichi suddenly had to squint. Behind them stood the same old apartment building Shuichi had snuck into what he assumed was a couple of nights ago. The street was very different in the sunlight, although no less deserted as Shuichi remembered it. The only thing that he could tell hadn’t been there before was a small, dark blue car which looked about five years old. Ouma was leaning against it, tapping his foot on the pavement impatiently.

“Help him in,” Ouma ordered. He stared at them sourly for a moment before turning and opening the rear door, climbing in himself.

Buggs silently complied. He closed the door gently and walked over to the other side of the car to get into the driver’s seat.

Shuichi felt Ouma pull on his sleeve. In a complete one-eighty from his behaviour before, he seemed just as happy and light-hearted as he normally was. “Is your leg still okay?”

“Yeah, it’s fine,” he lied. He was still very aware of the pain shooting up it.

Ouma saw through the lie easily and pouted. “Don’t lie to me, Saihara-chan. I thought friends were supposed to trust each other!”

“I do trust you,” Shuichi reassured him. “You don’t need to worry though, I’m really alright. I mean, you said we’re going to a hospital. I’ll be right as rain by the end of the day, yeah?”

Ouma shrugged. “I guess.” He then latched on Shuichi’s arm and looked up at him, emotions unreadable. “I really missed you though.”

Shuichi stared at him blankly for a moment, feeling a surge of emotion flood over his whole being. Then he smiled, affection painted in neon over his face. “Yeah, I really missed you too.”

Just then the door opened again. Coco was leaning down, a dark coat among a few other things in her arms. “S-sorry, I forgot to… I forgot to return these.” She awkwardly set Shuichi’s things on his lap, closed the door and ran hurriedly back inside.

Shuichi looked down and rummaged in his things for his phone.

30 missed calls and nearly double that number of texts. Most of them from Kaito.

“Well…” Shuichi said, looking down at the phone reproachfully. “I’m going to have a lot of questions to answer, aren’t I?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have to admit I was really surprised at the reception of the last chapter, you guys really seemed to like it. I was even more surprised since I considered it one of the weaker chapters. As long as you guys like it. Also, I understand I confused some people, but that was almost the point. I will explain some of it in the next chapters, I swear.  
> This chapter on the other hand is one of my favourites, so I hope you guys enjoyed reading it.  
> Also, I hope you guys can excuse the OC's. I like em tho, especially Isoshi and Coco.


	19. Chapter 19

By the time evening had fallen, Shuichi was walking out of the hospital with a temporary cast and a pair of crutches.

Ouma had nearly had a fit when the doctors hadn’t allowed him to join Shuichi during the examination and treatment, but Shuichi had managed to convince him to wait patiently or leave. He’d decided on the former.

Shuichi had quickly decided that he didn’t like the crutches at all. It felt profoundly unnatural to walk without one of his legs and his arms had begun to ache as soon as he had started to hobble down the ramp outside the entrance to the hospital. He had quite wisely forgone the steep, narrow stairs.

As they reached the street though, Shuichi noticed that the car had gone.

“I sent him away,” Ouma explained, apparently having read Shuichi’s thoughts. “I don’t want him knowing where you live if I can help it. Will you be okay to walk?” He looked apologetic, hands in his pockets and head tilted down.

Shuichi thought about what he had exactly said. Why can’t he know where Shuichi lives? It made him feel uneasy, but he just put it aside for the time being.

He nodded and started making his way through the car park in front of the hospital. He was suddenly very thankful he lived so close by. Normally it would have taken ten minutes but unfortunately, due to the crutches, it took the best part of half an hour to actually get there.

The two boys kept up idle chit chat, but Shuichi couldn’t say too much as he was panting, the crutches being, surprisingly to him, very physically demanding.

He had Ouma fish the keys his apartment out of the post box when they finally arrived back at the familiar building. The sun was relatively low in the darkening sky and the windows reflected opaquely off of the windows so that from outside you couldn’t see anything beyond them. The orange glow made the whole building look warm and safe as people came and went around it, commuting home from the town centre not five minutes away. After days gone, suffering under interrogation and having a broken leg bandaged up, the rush of relief that crashed over him upon the sight of _home_ was complete and utter bliss.

Ouma laughed as he looked back at Shuichi, who had stopped to take in the sight of the crummy apartment building. “Someone looks happy.”

“ _God_ yes.”

Shuichi struggled up the stairs, his building was far too cheap for an elevator of any sort, but they reached the fifth floor eventually and Ouma unlocked the door for him.

The first thing he did was sink into the old sofa, throwing the crutches on the floor contemptuously, glad to be rid of them, and heaving his heavy, cast-covered leg up onto the barren coffee table. His muscles sighed in the respite, and Shuichi did the same.

Ouma plopped lightly down next to him, looking around the room interestedly. “I’m rather surprised. It’s very clean in here: no dust, no dishes. I checked the bin and that’s empty too.” Shuichi was much too distracted by his own serene felicity to catch the almost unnoticeable trace of disappointment in his voice. “I knew you were clean but not quite a _neat freak_.”

“Oh, no. No, I haven’t done any housework since…” Shuichi didn’t finish that sentence, hastily moving on to the next. “Anyway, no I haven’t been cleaning, Kaito has.”

“Really?” he said, the disappointment completely gone.

“Yeah. He said he couldn’t stand to see me living in such squalor. You’d never actually believe it, but he really _is_ a neat freak. It’s sort of funny, he and Maki have been living together for a few years and the number of times she complains when Kaito-” He stopped midsentence and groaned. “ _Kaito_ , oh god. I need to call him, don’t I?”

“Unfortunately so,” Ouma agreed, waving his legs in the air.

Shuichi dug his phone out of his coat pocket and hit his first speed dial. It rung thrice before the other line picked up.

“What?” Kaito’s voice was hushed, he must have been in a lecture.

“Hey, it’s Shuichi.”

“H-huh?” he stuttered. “Wait, really?”

“Yes.”

“Holy _shit_ Shuichi, where the hell have you been?!” he whispered loudly through the receiver. Shuichi couldn’t imagine that he was going unnoticed on his end of the line. “Why didn’t you answer any of my calls?”

“I didn’t have my phone, calm down. It’s nothing serious.”

“ _Nothing serious_?” Ouma spoke up loudly from beside him, irritated. “Your leg is broken and you’re saying it’s _‘nothing serious’’_?”

“How the hell did you break your leg?!” Kaito again whispered frantically over the phone. “And who’s that?”

Shuichi rolled his eyes, pushing Ouma away. “It was an accident. No shut up,” he shushed Ouma, covering his mouth with his palm. “Don’t worry about it, really. It’s no concern, I should be completely back to normal in a few weeks. Eurgh, Ouma, that’s disgusting!” The young man had just licked his hand in defiance.

“What are you doing with _him_?” Kaito hissed venomously.

“For Christ’s sake, that’s none of your business.”

Kaito muttered lowly. “I’m heading straight to yours when I’m done here. You have some serious explaining to do.”

“Wait what? No,” Shuichi protested, but Kaito had already hung up. “This is all your fault,” he turned on Ouma irately.

“I just think your ‘best friend’ has a right to know what happened to you. He’s _worried_ , Saihara-chan. Are you really that dense?” he retorted. “Honestly, I’ve already told you to be _thankful_ that people care about you so much, or did you forget?”

Shuichi dropped his gaze to his lap guiltily. “I… I guess…” he sighed and closed his eyes.

“Sorry,” Ouma said, leaning his head on Shuichi’s shoulder. “I shouldn’t have said that.”

They sat like that for a while, the only sounds the hubbub of cars outside and the whirring from the fridge standing a little way off. Well, that was until Shuichi’s stomach gave a loud growl.

Ouma giggled and got to his feet. “Let’s see if there’s anything in the fridge, shall we?”

Shuichi nodded and smiled sheepishly. He really hadn’t realised just how hungry he was. He struggled to his own feet and hopped over to the tiny dining table, ignoring the crutches, as Ouma was rummaging about in the fridge.

“Really, Saihara-chan? There’s almost nothing in here!”

“Well, I’ve been living off of instant noodles recently. They’re in the cupboard over there.” He pointed to a cabinet above the cheap oven. “At least, they _should_ be. Kaito kept hiding them.”

The other pulled down two packets of instant food. “ _This_ is what you’ve been eating? Honestly, I’m surprised you don’t have some sort of health problem by this point.” Regardless, he ripped them open and emptied them into a large pot before putting the kettle on.

Five minutes later they were eating the crappy, plastic-like noodles. Shuichi was just glad to have something in his stomach though.

The two of them didn’t say much to each other after eating. Ouma helped Shuichi back to the couch and they had just sat together in near silence for a long while. Shuichi was quite content to do so though, happy to be home and fed and with _Ouma._

Hugging his good leg to his chest, Shuichi stared down fondly at the shorter boy. He was curled up, looking at his phone, leaning his back against Shuichi’s side. He couldn’t see Ouma’s face, but his body was relaxed, and he wiggled his foot absentmindedly.

He muttered something or other before stuffing the phone into his pocket and tilting his neck back to meet Shuichi’s eyes. “Are you trying to read my texts Saihara-chan? That’s so rude!” He smiled impishly and stretched. “I could have you done in for that.”

“You wouldn’t though.”

“You think so?”

“I know so.” Shuichi smiled gently.

Ouma shrugged. “I guess you’re right. I don’t think I could _bare_ it if my most beloved Saihara-chan was ripped away from me again!” he cried out melodramatically, hugging his arms to his chest in feigned fear.

Shuichi blushed, looking away bashfully. He’d never really paid it much mind, but now Ouma’s teasing terms of endearment had a bit more of an effect on him than they had before. Much had changed since he’d come to the realisation that he was in love with the strange boy sat close up against him. He had a powerful urge to wrap his arms around the other again, but managed to restrain himself.

“I really think I would outright _die_ if I couldn’t see you again, Saihara-chan. Especially after just getting you back, you know. So, you’re not allowed to leave okay? I promise I won’t either. I was a big fat idiot for doing it before, wasn’t I Saihara-chan?”

“Ouma?” he interrupted.

“Yeah?”

“I was thinking…” he said quietly, still keeping his eyes averted. “Maybe you could start… you could just call me Shuichi.” He could feel his cheeks burning as it came out, but was glad he had actually said it, if only for the expression he saw on Ouma’s face.

Ouma was gaping up at him with a mix of surprise and wonderment.

He quickly pulled away from Shuichi and sat up on his knees, facing him. “You aren’t messing with me, are you?”

“What? Of course not!” Shuichi protested, confused as to why he was receiving opposition. “Why on earth would I do that?”

Ouma blinked at him a few times, gaze still full of awe. “But…” he started, eyebrows drawing together. “Why? I could never deserve to talk to you so intimately, right?”

Shuichi chuckled uncertainly. “I don’t see why you would ever think that.”

“I’m a criminal,” he stated as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “I’m a thief; the thief you’ve been trying to arrest for ten months. People in my command kidnapped you, and they broke your leg because of _my_ crappy orders. Then there was the time I tried to rob your parents. And I put a gun to your back too. I stalked you for weeks after running into you that first time and then basically forced you to spend time with me. This whole thing has really just been my own selfish indulgence, and now for some reason you seem to genuinely want to be friends with some weirdo who has done pretty much nothing but lie to you about who he is. You weren’t wrong when… I mean…” He paused and frowned.

Ouma fell back and hugged his legs tightly to his chest, looking resolutely away from Shuichi. He let out a long sigh. “You _don’t_ really know much about me, I get that much but…” He turned his face so that he was talking into his knees.

The mumbling was completely unintelligible to Shuichi. “Huh?”

The shorter boy seemed reluctant to say whatever it was again. Shuichi couldn’t see his face as strands of dyed hair fell in front of his eyes, but his shoulders were hunched and tense.

“It doesn’t matter. It’s not important,” he suddenly said, violently shaking his head before looking up to stare directly into Shuichi’s eyes. His gaze wasn’t as confident as his tone would have suggested though.

Shuichi smiled at him warmly. He didn’t really mind whether the other abandoned the subject or not, he just wanted him to be comfortable. An ice-cold fear had begun to creep up Shuichi’s spine that he might drive the other back out of his life. He just hoped that Ouma understood as much.

Ouma sighed and let out an awkward laugh, looking to the floor. “I just… I guess that…” He sighed again and shook his head weakly. “To me it felt like you were the only person who actually knew me at all... _personally_. At least… you were the only person who ever _tried_.”

Silence smothered the small room like a heavy blanket. Ouma was looking anywhere but at Shuichi while Shuichi stared straight at him, wide eyed.

A crushing sense of realisation hit Shuichi like a bullet. He understood completely then why Ouma would be angry at him, why he’d think it best just to leave. At least, that would have been Shuichi’s first instinct. Not that he could really ever comprehend such a feeling.

This time Shuichi didn’t resist the urge to hug him.

Ouma remained still and tense but Shuichi didn’t let go, guilt etched into his every thought and movement.

“I thought I already warned you about this Saihara-chan,” Ouma said quietly, looking up at Shuichi in a manner that was almost shy. “You can’t do things like that.”

Shuichi gazed down at him, overwhelmed. Just as the dam holding back the flood of confusing, racing, complicated thoughts was threatening to splinter and collapse, Shuichi hugged the other tighter. He pulled Ouma close against his chest, burying his nose into plum coloured hair and squeezed him with every ounce of strength he could muster up.

At last, Ouma relaxed into Shuichi’s embrace, welcoming the warmth and comfort from human contact it pained Shuichi to know he rarely, if ever, received. If Shuichi had it his way, and he found a stubborn determination to get his way rapidly growing inside him, that would no longer be the case.

Right then though, without any warning, the front door then proceeded to slam open loudly.

The two of them leapt apart, Shuichi going only as far at the cast would let him and Ouma jumping back so far, he was perched on the arm of the sofa.

Kaito stood in the doorway, a fierce dauntlessness gleaming in his eyes which was quickly extinguished and replaced by a faint confusion. “Erm… did I interrupt something?” He looked between the two young men warily.

Ouma then abruptly got to his feet and began to shuffle towards the door, chuckling awkwardly. “I suppose that’s, err… my cue to leave.”

“No!” Shuichi exclaimed, launching to his feet, stumbling over his broken, useless leg and hanging onto Ouma’s arm, yanking him back so that they both nearly fell over. “Don’t go, please.”

Ouma caught him before either of them went tumbling to the floor though, helping Shuichi to stand straight. “Careful there. Don’t want to go back to hospital now, do we?” he teased, leading Shuichi back to sit down.

Shuichi refused to let go though, clinging on so tight his knuckles went bone white. “Please, please, you can’t go. Don’t leave again, _please_ ,” he begged pathetically.

Bent awkwardly over him, Ouma ran his free hand soothingly through Shuichi’s dark hair, cooing and shushing him. “It’s okay. It’s alright. I’ll come back tomorrow, I _promise_.” He started to pry Shuichi’s hands from his arm. “You should… You really need to talk to Momota. He’s worried, remember?”

Shuichi stilled and then nodded pitifully, reluctantly letting his grip relax and his hands drop into his lap.

“You get some sleep and I’ll be back before you know it!” He grinned broadly, ruffling Shuichi’s hair fondly before stepping back and looking in Kaito’s direction. He wrinkled his nose when he looked straight at him, as if he’d smelt something particularly disgusting.

He marched up to the door at stared up at Kaito haughtily. “You take good care of my beloved Saihara-chan. And if you don’t I might just have to send _you_ to the hospital.” Then, smiling sweetly and waving back at Shuichi, he skipped off down the hall and out of sight.

Shuichi could feel his stomach drop with anxiety the second he couldn’t see Ouma anymore, but kept up a brave face.

Kaito shuddered, stepped into the flat and quietly shut the door behind him before taking the now empty seat next to Shuichi.

They sat together for a while, neither saying anything. Shuichi curled in on himself, leg swinging gently over the edge of the loveseat. He kept his gaze fixed on his hands as he fiddled with stray threads sticking up from the hem of his dirty top.

“So…” Kaito started, unable to sit in in such silence. “How’d your little vacation go?”

Shuichi laughed lightly, expelling the tension which had settled after Ouma’s departure. He looked up and over to Kaito, a wry smile on his lips. “Honestly… it could have been a lot worse.”

He spent the next hour or so telling Kaito the gist of what had happened. How he’d been kidnapped and interrogated due to his involvement with the police, which was how he’d broken his leg. He evaded any mention of Ouma’s involvement, and Kaito had, as he had chosen to a lot throughout the past few weeks, abstained from bringing him up of his own accord; much to Shuichi’s relief.

The two of them had hung about into the late evening. The sun still just hanging onto the horizon when Kaito left so Shuichi could go to sleep.

Shuichi had hobbled into his room for the first time in a while. It held the stale air typical of the absence of habitation. It was still abnormally tidy, the bed sheets completely devoid of wrinkles and the desk cleared of the papers Shuichi had stacked upon them.

He opened one of the drawers to see them stuffed inside haphazardly with clothes he’d tried to put out of the way. Shuichi pulled out an old but clean t-shirt, wearing only that and his boxers as he flopped onto the cold, stiff sheets: a welcome relief in the midsummer night heat. He was asleep within minutes of crawling under the duvet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, one chapter left. sort of. I was thinking I might write a chapter 21, but the story is okay without it so whatever.  
> I hope you guys look forward to the last instalment (for now), and that you enjoyed this chapters.


	20. Chapter 20

Shuichi woke up in the middle of the night, sweating in the sweltering heat under the bedsheets which stuck to his bare arms and legs. His left leg felt especially uncomfortable beneath the heavy plaster cast, aching and itchy.

He sat up in the dark, peeling the blanket from himself and throwing it aside onto the floor, only to be met with hot, still air.

After tiredly rising to his feet, leaning against one of his crutches for support, he drew back the thin curtains and pulled the window up and open. A faint breeze instantly wafted into the room.

Shuichi sighed in the reprieve, collapsing back onto the mattress which was unpleasantly damp with his sweat. He closed his eyes and attempted to fall back into sleep, pushing the crutch away from where he had balanced it against the bed, letting it land with a clatter of plastic.

In the near unbearable heat, though, Shuichi couldn’t drift back into unconsciousness and simply lay there for a long time, unsuccessfully trying to get into some kind of comfortable state.

After an hour or so, Shuichi became aware of a quiet, repetitive thumping of something against his wall.

He wearily opened his eyes and propped himself up on his elbows, looking around the room for the source of the sound.

Perched on the window sill, clad in black, hair tied up in a very small, messy ponytail and a dark mask covering forehead to the bridge of the nose, was a small, well camouflaged figure.

“Huh… déjà vu.” Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, Shuichi reached to switch on his bedside lamp. “Although…” He yawned loudly. “You could have just come in through the front door.”

Ouma giggled and continued to gently knock his heels against the wall. “Oh Saihara-chan, you know that goes against my M.O. But I do seem to remember it going down a little differently.” He hopped onto the floor, sauntered over and perched on the edge of the mattress. “Last time, you were on your feet.”

“Actually, I remember kneeling on the floor with my ass in the air,” Shuichi corrected without quite thinking about what he was saying. “Oh… err, well I… I guess you didn’t see that…”

“Now why would you be doing that, Saihara-chan?” Ouma asked cheekily. “So indecent.”

Shuichi furrowed his brow and clenched the mattress sheet between his fingers. “I’m too tired for this.” He shook his head in exasperation and rolled his eyes, but smiled fondly nonetheless. “It was almost a year ago. I was probably picking something up. I think the bigger question is why on earth a ‘master thief’ jumped through my bedroom window.”

The shorter boy shrugged. “A Dice member lives directly upstairs, and I just happened to jump through the wrong window. I was kind of panicking actually; that store had better security than I had been expecting.”

“Wait,” Shuichi interrupted, holding his hand up, “You don’t mean Nagamine-san upstairs, do you?”

Ouma’s eyes lit up beneath the mask and he childishly clapped his hands together in excitement. “Yeah! That’s Snake! She’s super hardcore.”

 “Right,” Shuichi said, recalling an image of his dainty little neighbour who embodied all that it meant to be feminine a century ago. “I guess looks can be deceiving.”

“Damn right! I mean, I don’t fit whatever the stereotype of a criminal mastermind is, now do I?”

Instead of answering, Shuichi reached out and hooked a finger over the top of Ouma’s mask and pulled it down his face until it hung around his neck. “ _Now_ you certainly don’t. Just a bit emo.”

“ _You’re_ the emo one Saihara-chan, you know that much.”

Shuichi frowned, shifting and folding his good leg underneath him. “You know… I was being completely serious when I said I wanted you to call me Shuichi.”

Ouma went quiet then and stared owlishly up at Shuichi, who could feel an embarrassed frustration balloon unsettlingly in his chest.

He looked off to the side. “If you don’t want to, just tell me. You don’t have to be stubborn abou-”

“Okay.”

“Huh?”

He looked back at the other young man sat next to him on the cheap mattress, who then smiled brightly. “If you’re _that_ desperate.” Ouma shuffled up the bed, so he was sat directly next to Shuichi, their shoulders pressed comfortably together. “Honestly _Shuichi_ , you need to be less clingy.”

Shuichi would have responded with more than a nod had butterflies not erupted like a volcano inside his stomach as soon as his name left Ouma’s lips. The close proximity did nothing to stifle the blush creeping up Shuichi’s neck and painting his cheeks a pale pink too.

A warm silence fell on them then, punctuated only by the late-night sounds of car engines and the faint rustling of leaves. Shuichi didn’t trust himself not to say anything stupid and so kept his mouth clamped shut.

They just sat like that for a while. Once Shuichi had completely calmed down, he felt at complete ease on his crappy bed.

“You know…” Shuichi began, looking down at the other boy, “you look sort of over-dressed.”

“What do you mean?”

Shuichi gestured at him. “Look at yourself. I feel like I’m trapped in an oven in just a shirt and boxers. You’re covered from head to toe.”

Ouma sat up and looked down at himself. “I guess I am kinda hot.”

“Also, why _are_ you wearing that?” Shuichi hadn’t quite expected to see Ouma completely geared up for robbing a bank, or even at all until morning but that was beside the point.

“We were doing an initial scout of a place out of town. I just came straight here.”

Shuichi nodded. “I’d ask you to tell me where, but you would have to be pretty stupid to tell me that,” he said, chuckling quietly.

However, after a moment’s thought he felt his stomach drop. A devastating truth crashed into him like a bus as it occurred to Shuichi exactly what everything he now knew really meant.

Shuichi couldn’t speak. He went to say something, anything, to talk about it, find comfort, but nothing would come out. His mouth felt dry and his breaths were shallow, ice slowly coursing through his whole being.

At some point, Ouma had managed to catch on to what Shuichi had fallen into turmoil over.

“I was wondering when you’d catch on,” Ouma muttered grimly, staring into his lap. “A friendship like ours couldn’t work… not really.”

Hearing Ouma say it out loud seemed to be the straw that broke the camel’s back as tears began to sting behind Shuichi’s eyes. His breath caught in his throat as he furiously shook his head back and forth. “Don’t. Don’t _say_ that,” he choked out, clawing at the bedsheets. “Th-that’s… that’s not true.”

The other smiled wryly. “Don’t be stupid,” he said bitterly. “It goes completely and utterly against our ways of life.”

“I… I don’t…” Shuichi started, his whole body starting to quake. “I don’t _care_ about that.” It came out as a dry whisper. Shuichi screwed his eyes shut against the tears now blurring his vision. “It doesn’t matter to me.”

“You’re a _detective_. You can’t be all buddy-buddy with someone like me, that’s just… counter-productive I suppose,” Ouma reasoned, voice weak. “Your boss has a bounty over my head, but here I am. Sat in your bedroom. Well, with your permission this time.” He couldn’t seem to bring himself to laugh at his own joke.

Shuichi rubbed at his eyes, smearing tears across his face. “I said, I don’t care about that. Kaminara can go screw himself. I lost you once, I’m not letting you go again!” he whimpered, voice cracking violently.

“You…? I… no. No. I’m not letting you give up on your dreams because of _me_ ,” Ouma persisted, hotly. “You’re a good detective, you can’t just throw that away!”

“Yes, I can!” Shuichi turned harshly and locked eyes with Ouma determinedly. “And I will. I’d give up everything if it meant I could keep you in my life.”

Ouma didn’t seem to have any kind of response to that. He looked dumbly up at Shuichi, mouth hanging open in shock.

Another choked sob suddenly caught in Shuichi’s throat, throwing him into a fit of harsh coughing. His chest hurt, his throat felt like a cactus had been forced down it, and his mouth was painfully dry; but at least he seemed to have run out of tears, salt cracked on his cheeks and watery mucus stuck to his chin and neck. Self-consciously, Shuichi snatched a tissue from the nightstand and furiously scrubbed it off, hiccoughing now and again, breaths shaky.

He sniffled a bit as he threw the dirty tissues at the bin at the foot of his bed. He missed but he couldn’t bring himself to care all that much, especially not when Ouma was still staring at him like he’d grown a second head.

He felt like he’d said too much. He’d definitely said too much. But he hadn’t lied. He had meant what he’d said. And he had so much more to say, except now he was pretty sure that he’d successfully ruined everything again by saying but a fraction of it. He felt like he might have started crying all over again had he not already burnt himself out.

“Do you…” Ouma started, making Shuichi jump despite how quiet he was. “You don’t mean that… do you?” He sounded unconfident and anxious, as if he was ready to be disappointed.

Shuichi’s chest felt really tight as he nodded feebly, pulling down on the hem of his shirt, stretching it until it covered half of his thighs.

“Oh. R-really?”

Shuichi nodded again.

“You’re sure?”

“ _Yes,_ ” Shuichi stressed, humiliation growing. “How many times are you going to make me say it?”

“I, um, I’m sorry. It’s just that…” He sighed heavily, curling up tight so his face was half buried in his knees. “I never thought you cared about me that much.”

Shuichi shrugged and stared resolutely at the rickety wardrobe in the far corner of the room. He was beginning to wish he _was_ alone then, that Ouma hadn’t jumped in through his window again. Then maybe he could have gone a bit longer without thinking about any of this.

“I don’t think… It’s just that no one’s _ever_ cared about me that much,” Ouma continued quietly. “Why do _you_?”

 _Why?_ It made Shuichi pale when he couldn’t immediately conjure an answer. He knew that he had never felt this away about anyone since Kaede. But he knew exactly why he had liked Kaede, she was almost angelic. Sweet and kind and pretty and the only person he ever really spoke to back then. But with Ouma he had a harder time pin-pointing exactly why.

He loved him, plain and simple.

And yet he couldn’t quite explain it.

Since Shuichi had first been told about the boy, as Ouma Kokichi and not the leader of Dice, he had been given a bad impression. He’d tormented his best friends all throughout school. He had spent the first few weeks he’d known him pestering Shuichi whenever he was alone, trying to get his attention. And then he could be annoying and rude, and he lied all the time, and attracted unwanted attention, and half the time he struggled to understand when enough was enough.

But then again, he wasn’t always like that. He could be a lot of fun. He rarely failed to make Shuichi laugh. And he was intelligent, intelligent enough to call Shuichi out on his bullshit, unlike Kaito. But he also seemed to understand Shuichi in a way other people didn’t. Especially when it came to dealing with loss. He understood when Shuichi needed to talk and exactly what he needed to hear or when he just needed silent comfort and just to be with someone else.

Shuichi had come to crave his company. He just loved to be with Ouma, to be able to share in the mundane moments in life, learning the little things and sifting through the mountains of lies until he found the truth buried in it like diamonds in the rough. He knew that, no matter what, as long as Ouma was next to him he could always get back on his feet. It had been that way for a long time.

The more he thought about it, the more he realised that he could never even hope to properly answer such a question. It was a feeling he couldn’t properly put into words. Frankly, it was a feeling he didn’t want to put into words, he knew he would never be capable of doing it justice.

Shuichi smiled and shrugged again. “I don’t think you’d understand even if I tried to explain it. All I know is that since I met you my life has been a lot less shitty and I don’t want to spend another day not knowing you’re only a phone call away.

“This is something that I _can’t_ properly explain. But I think that’s just how it is, you know? It’s your entire world and then when it, well when _you_ were gone it was almost like there’s no real reason to do anything anymore.”

Ouma didn’t say anything immediately and when he eventually did, it was almost a whisper. “If I didn’t know any better…” he gulped and laughed weakly, “I’d say it sounds like you’ve fallen in love with me. But that’s ri-”

“That’s because I _have_.”

What Ouma was saying died in his throat with a strangled squeak.

“Sorry to… to freak you out,” Shuichi sighed dejectedly. “Ideally you never would have found out, but Kaito and Maki said it was obvious and you asked, and really I don’t want to lie to you. So, I-I’m sorry.” Shuichi wrung his hands for a moment before continuing, louder and more distressed. “I never wanted to make this weird. I’d be happy just to be friends but now it’s going to be awkward and I just keep making it worse and I’m so sorry I _never_ wanted this to happen.”

“Stop apologising,” Ouma said, resting his hand on top of Shuichi’s. “Just shut up.”

Shuichi nodded, a dark blush blooming across his face.

Ouma chuckled softly and squeezed Shuichi’s hand. “You don’t need to _panic_. I was just… surprised is all…” He looked down at their hands for a moment, brow furrowed. “Okay, I was completely dumbstruck. I mean, I’ve definitely entertained the thought, but to think someone like you would ever consider _me_ , someone who’s been committing felonies longer than you’ve been doing detective stuff, worthy of your affection?

“I thought for _sure_ you would decide I’m not worth your time as soon as you found out about the Dice stuff. God that _terrified_ me, but I’ve wanted to tell you for ages. I just hate that you found out after my guys broke your leg. If the mere fact that I’m the boss of an underground criminal organisation wasn’t enough, I was certain your broken leg would be the nail in the coffin.”

“I swear this is the longest you’ve spoken for without lying once,” Shuichi pointed out, cutting Ouma off before he could ramble any more.

“Yeah,” Ouma agreed. “That’s so when I tell you I love you too, you may be more inclined to believe me. Plus, I want to be honest with you, but it’s difficult to stop once I’ve started.”

Shuichi started and tensed up. A very powerful rush of relief and affection thundered through him and he instantly broke out in a huge smile. “Really?”

“Oh, um. Yeah. I err… fuck.” Ouma rubbed his neck awkwardly, a light pink dusting his cheeks. “I’ve loved you for a long time now.”

Overwhelmed with joy, Shuichi instantly threw his arms around Ouma and engulfed him in an embrace near tight enough to kill. He was so happy and giddy he felt like laughing until he threw up. He didn’t do that, but he did nuzzle the top of Ouma’s head, revelling in the sensation of soft locks tickling his face.

“H-hey, that’s embarrassing,” Ouma complained half-heartedly, leaning into Shuichi’s hug. “And as much as I don’t want to ruin this… who am I kidding, the _best_ moment of life, the whole criminal-detective thing is still a problem.”

“I don’t care what you say, I’m _never_ letting you go. I don’t mean physically,” he corrected, withdrawing, “If withdrawing my application to the police academy is what it takes to make you shut up and stop talking about that, then I’ll do it. I have other options.”

Ouma rolled his eyes and wrapped his arms around Shuichi. “Don’t do _that_ , the last thing I want is for you to do that. I’ll… I’ll do something… eventually. Just… for now, let’s just… do this.” He buried his face into Shuichi’s chest.

“Hey, um, before I fall asleep and completely miss this opportunity could I… err…” he stuttered, making himself flustered.

Pulling away, Ouma looked up at Shuichi roguishly before slipping his hands behind Shuichi’s neck and kissing him softly.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that,” Ouma muttered, resting their foreheads together. Shuichi smiled shyly as a quiet involuntary giggle escaped his lips. “Sweet baby Jesus, you are the most innocent, beautiful human being to ever walk the planet. How on earth did you ever fool yourself into liking me.”

“Why don’t you stop questioning that and just accept the fact that you’re stuck with me now.”

“I don’t think stuck is the right word…”

Shuichi suddenly turned away to yawn.

Ouma laughed. “Maybe you should go to sleep.”

“Probably.” Shuichi rested his cheek on top of Ouma’s head. “I will if you stay.”

“Oh, I wasn’t planning on going anywhere,” he assured, smirking. “Now lie down.”

Shuichi did so without complaint. He pulled Ouma close against him, feeling his breath against his collar bone. Whatever they were in store for was most definitely not going to be smooth, but Shuichi was more than certain that he’d do absolutely anything for the young man shuffling relentlessly beneath him, trying to lie comfortably without irritating Shuichi’s broken leg. Shuichi squeezed him tight and kissed his forehead. Shortly thereafter, he slipped into blissful sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hoo boy. This thing is finished. When I started writing chapter one back in November this moment seemed a LONG way off. And now here we are. Wow.  
> Thank you to everyone who read this and commented and gave kudos etc. I'm so goddamned grateful to all of you, as well as anyone else who ever reads this thing. I really didn't expect quite so much positive feedback :) and I honestly don't think much in 2018 will top this for me.  
> Anyway, a couple of things. I'm still maybe-ing on that chapter 21, I just wanted to put a little scene to tie it up for now. I say for now because just before I finished writing it I came to the realisation that I have left a bunch of unanswered questions, of which gave me a bunch of inspiration for another installment. Like, I already have a bunch of it planned and stuff. If that does happen, it won't be up for a few months at least though as I expect it to be reasonably long and I refuse to post things anymore that aren't finished beforehand; I hate to leave you guys waiting for something that may never come.  
> All of that aside, if you got all the way to the end I really hope you enjoyed this. Thank you SO MUCH for reading!


	21. Chapter 21

The sun had long since risen when Shuichi hurriedly stumbled through his front door into a dirty hallway. He propped one of his crutches against the wall while he dove into his pocket for the keys, awkwardly pulling the fading blue door shut. Unfortunately, while he was struggling the turn the old key in the stiff lock, the crutch fell the floor. Shuichi stared at it as if it had just taken a piss in his cereal.

He sighed, shoved the key back into his pocket and knelt down on the floor with great difficulty to retrieve the useless piece of plastic, muttering curses all the while, wincing as he contorted his broken leg to accommodate for his position. Having gripped it in a tighter than necessary fist, he faced the task of returning to his feet.

“Would you like a hand there, Saihara-kun?”

Shuichi looked up and smiled gratefully at his saviour.

Crouched over him was a young woman no older than Shuichi himself. She was petite and delicate, hair as silkily black as midnight, tired up in an elegant braid with a ribbon, and eyes a soft hazel, gleaming with a perpetual kindness. It was clear to any one that she was a living drop of sunshine and possibly the personification of geniality.

She extended a soft hand, smudges of black ink staining the smooth skin, and Shuichi dropped the crutch to grip it firmly in his own, allowing her to pull him to his feet.

“Thanks, Nagamine-san.” Shuichi regained his balance and shuffled back as the young woman bent down to retrieve the crutch from the floor, handing it to him with a smile.

“You don’t seem to like those things,” she commented, smiling sweetly.

Shuichi sighed and nodded. “I’ve been using them less than a day and I already despise them. Another five months will be delightful, I’m sure.”

Nagamine giggled quietly. “Do you need help down the stairs? It’s a fair way,” she asked, hands clasped behind her back.

“I should be okay, thanks anyway.”

Despite him refusing her help she still lingered as he clunked down the stairs as quickly as he could, the plastic arm pieces digging into his flesh uncomfortably and the grips quickly growing warm and slightly slippery in his grip.

“How did you break your leg anyway?”

Shuichi shot her bemused look, eyebrow raised. “I would have thought you’d already know the answer to that.”

She smiled sheepishly. “I guess you know now, huh. Was it Boss, or…?”

“Ouma told me,” he confirmed, concentrating on not falling over. “Although, now I think about it, I suppose that means I owe you a lot, yeah?”

“I suppose so.” She nodded lightly. “I understand that you’re close.”

Shuichi’s face instantly blossomed pink and he turned his head roughly away from his neighbour, laughing awkwardly. “I suppose you could say that…”

She furrowed her brow quizzically, watching Shuichi as he tried his best to descend the stairs. However, the sound of hurried footsteps from below them began to echo off the grey, mouldy walls, drawing their attention and stopping them in their tracks momentarily.

A few seconds later a Ouma came to an abrupt halt a few steps below them and looked between the two, initially bewildered but then hurt.

“You said you’d wait for me!”

“No, I said I don’t need your help walking down the stairs.”

“So you won’t accept _my_ help, but you will take Emiko-chan’s!”

Shuichi rolled his eyes and resumed his descent. “ _No_ , we were just talking.”

“God Shuichi, it’s been less than half a day and you’re already cheating on me!”

From behind them Nagamine loudly gasped, making the two young men turn to look at her. “Boss! Is that true!”

Ouma flashed her a cat-like grin. “Since when do I _ever_ tell the _truth_ Emiko-chan? I guess you’ll just have to stew in your curiosity forever.”

“It’s true,” Shuichi interjected shyly, chuckling at the look of betrayal that crossed Ouma’s face. “Oh, come on, she would have found out eventually. She lives in the apartment above me,” he pointed out, starting to feel a little guilty.

Ouma huffed and shook his head. “Whatever.” He then locked eyes with Nagamine and seemed to issue some sort of silent order before turning around and tugging gently on Shuichi’s arm. “We have to get you to work. You’re already late.”

“And who’s fault is that?”

Ignoring this, Ouma wrapped one of his arms around Shuichi’s waist, intending to act as a walking stick. Without much of a choice, Shuichi handed the crutch to the other and leant on him, hooking his arm around his small shoulders.

This way, they managed to make it down the stairs much quicker than Shuichi would have otherwise, not to mention that he’d rather have Ouma under his arm than an uncomfortable plastic rod.

Upon reaching the foot of the stairs though, Nagamine tapped gingerly on Shuichi’s shoulder. “Can I, err… Can I please have a word? Real quick.”

Nodding, Shuichi took the crutch back and hobbled off, leaving Ouma pouting by the door to the building.

Nagamine leant in close and whispered into Shuichi’s ear so quietly it was a certainty that Ouma couldn’t hear. “Because I know you’re the kind of person not to, I need to ask you just to accept it when Boss blames himself for what happened to you.”

“What?” Shuichi blurted out, louder than he had intended. He quickly corrected himself. “ _Why?_ ”

She looked over to Ouma solemnly before answering. “Before you two… fell out back in May, he told a couple of us that you were strictly _off limits_. That nothing was to happen to you, and if it did… well, you probably don’t understand how we operate, but it wouldn’t be pretty.

“Unfortunately, he didn’t quite think it safe to show any of us what you looked like and, since your face was all over the media at the time, that it probably wasn’t necessary. But also, he swore us to secrecy on this and that meant we couldn’t tell the drones. Then, as it happened some of them found you sneaking around and, not knowing any better, thought you of all people, someone we knew was working high profile with the police, would be the best source of information.” She grimaced and pulled the sleeves of her dress down to cover her hands. “Thing is, when Boss is like this, there’s no arguing with him. I’m sure he wouldn’t get angry at you, but I know you’ll both be happier if you just go with it, okay?”

Shuichi, slowly absorbing this information, nodded. “Yeah, alright.” He looked down at the floor and frowned. “Anything else?”

She shook her head no curtly and stood back. “Nope, have a good day at work!” She then promptly left the building with a smile and a wave to Ouma.

“Anything I should know about?”

Shuichi started and turned around. He stared at the other for a moment and shook his head. “No, it’s nothing.” He approached the door, letting Ouma push it open before stepping into the warm late morning air.

Obviously Ouma could see straight through Shuichi’s lie, and Shuichi knew it, but he let it drop all the same.

It was quickly dawning on Shuichi that investment in a bus pass may be a good idea as the journey to work that usually took a quarter of an hour at the most, lasted just double that on his crutches.

“It’s okay, Shuichi, you’ll get better at them,” Ouma said, trying to cheer him up. “You won’t be doing much in the way of field work though.”

“That certainly is unlikely.”

Seeing the police station up ahead though, Shuichi stopped in the street. He looked down to Ouma, concerned, and then back up at the station.

“What are you doing?” Ouma, asked, looking back at him.

“You can go now. I mean… you should probably go. Not that I don’t want you here but…” Shuichi sighed and looked back down at the other. “I’m not letting you get any nearer to the station.”

Ouma smiled fondly and shook his head. “Really Shuichi, I’ll be just _fine_! It’s not like I have anything to hide.”

Shuichi chuckled but refused to waver. “No, you need to go.” He poked him with his crutch. “ _Go_. I’ll see you later.”

Ouma pouted and crossed his arms. “I don’t wanna.”

“I said _go_.” Shuichi poked him again, before hobbling ahead. “You don’t need to worry about me, really. I’m only a phone call away, you know.”

“ _Urgh!_ ” Ouma groaned but turned tail anyway.

Shuichi had taken about five steps before his phone began to buzz in his pocket.

He turned around to see Ouma still stood a little way away. “What now?”

“I forgot to say goodbye!” he said, skipping back up to Shuichi. “Bye.”

“Bye.” Shuichi had started to turn back yet again when he felt Ouma pull on his sleeve. “You know, I really _do_ have to go.”

Shuichi had barely finished his sentence before Ouma had latched his arms around his neck, squeezing him with all of his strength. “We’re a couple now Shuichi,” Ouma whispered coyly. “We need to do this kind of stuff now, right?”

Slightly exasperated, and almost wishing Ouma would just admit that all he wanted was a hug goodbye, Shuichi did his best to return the embrace without stabbing him in the back. Before pulling away, Shuichi lightly kissed Ouma on the forehead and smiled down at him fondly. “Love you, Ouma.”

Ouma’s face tinted pink and he looked up at Shuichi in awe for a moment. Then he beamed radiantly. “Love you, too. I’ll see you later.” He’d only taken two steps back when he suddenly stopped to say one last thing. “Oh! And my name is _Kokichi_. Okay?”

Shuichi nodded. “My mistake. Bye.”

And with that Shuichi finally walked off towards the station.

He had to answer a lot of questions about his broken leg and where he’d been from curious colleagues, and Kaminara, but aside from that, the work day passed as normal. Well, aside from Ouma calling at the top of every hour to whine about how much he was missing him. Although really, Shuichi couldn’t complain. He was happier than he’d been in a very long time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Get ready for a long end note guys.
> 
> So yeah, after thinking about it, I felt the need to write this for the sake of fluff (I had also originally planned for Kaito to turn up but I couldn't find a way to put him in here without it feeling too awkward) but mainly answering the one question I wanted most to answer because I felt like it was it was needed. Especially considering that the sequel I mentioned, while completely planned, plot point for plot point, probably won't get written until after June due to personal reasons. Also figured I should mention the name thing in this, like why is Ouma literally the only character who it referred to by their surname. That was a left over thing from when I though Shuichi would begin calling him Kokichi before the final chapter. The narration is from looking over Shuichi's shoulder and so all the characters are referred to by what Shuichi calls them. So in the sequel, Ouma will be referred to as Kokichi in the sequel narration. (Is that too extraneous?)
> 
> Anyway, thank you to everyone who read (again), I don't know how many times I'll need to give my thanks until it feels like I've said it enough but I haven't reached it yet (I won't say it again tho) Honestly, I'm amazed that 5 of you found this thing worth reading let along over 500, so I hope I managed to satisfy you guys' fanfic needs. And finally, with that, at long last, I lay this to rest. Au revoir mes amis.

**Author's Note:**

> Just a quick note, if you ever think I need to add any tags leave a comment or find me on tumblr at Blazewatching (although I doubt anyone will).


End file.
